


Lovebirds

by Brosephg



Category: Toaru Kagaku no Railgun | A Certain Scientific Railgun, Toaru Majutsu no Index | A Certain Magical Index
Genre: Affection, Compilation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loving Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Display of Affection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brosephg/pseuds/Brosephg
Summary: Things get hot and heavy when Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki decide to entertain themselves. Rated M for naughty adult words and steamy descriptions. All stories set at differing points in the timeline of "Times Change".
Relationships: Kamijou Touma/Shokuhou Misaki
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Story 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is made up of a series of one-shots which were originally posted to another platform, beginning in 02/01/2020. Set in 'A Certain Strange Scenario's' alternate timeline, 'Times Change', these one-shots depict the various happenings that occurred in the past, and those that will occur in the future. There isn't much direct continuity between individual one-shots, save for the fact that each takes place in the same timeline as the other.

Heroes struggled against a giant robot the size of a building, with bright, glowing yellow eyes, and a body vaguely shaped like a toaster with limbs attached. A city fell apart section by section as the gigantic robot trampled it.

Unfortunately, the studio that produced the film had clearly been on a paper-thin budget, as the scenes featuring the towering machine by itself were clearly shot on a set with hastily-produced miniatures, while scenes with the heroes themselves were more evidently than not shot on a greenscreen, the machine featured in these scenes brought to semi-life with extremely limited CGI.

That is to say, the film was not entertaining enough to keep those viewing it from quickly becoming bored.

"This… This movie's pretty bad."

"What matters it that they tried, I think."

Beneath layers of warm, soft blankets two young people cuddled upon a relatively small and inexpensive bed realistically only intended for use by one person. They were Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki.

Unlike in another time and place, the fates had shown them a modicum of mercy in this reality.

On the screen, the titanic machine swiped downward, and a CGI explosion followed. Toy cars were scattered everywhere.

"This might've been forgivable in the… I don't know, the sixties?" Touma remarked. "This is kind of sad."

"I didn't realize you'd become a film critic in your spare time, Kamijou-san. Where can I read your scathing reviews?"

The two looked at each other. Out of nowhere, both burst out laughing. The quip hadn't even been all that amusing.

With Index, the perpetually-hungry little nun who'd come to live with Touma in his dorm having been 'invited over' by Himegami Aisa in a move that certainly had not been at all coordinated and/or schemed, the lovebirds had Touma's cramped dorm to themselves for the first time in a long time. This fact had dawned upon both of them, yet neither had been ready to push beyond cuddling.

The gaze they'd shared moments ago still hadn't broken. Both still stared into each other's eyes.

Misaki felt a surge of something inside of her, rushing up from her lower chest and into her heart. It was as if living creatures were bouncing about inside, causing her sensibilities to become wild and unpredictable. Her heartbeat increased, and she _felt_ the heat rushing into her cheeks.

Nature won over, finally, as the film playing out on the screen was tuned out, all but forgotten by the lovebirds who'd come to lose themselves in each other.

Misaki's arms, slender and elegant, made their way around her "best friend's" shoulders, and she pressed herself inward. Misaki's ample bosom found itself colliding repeatedly with Touma's right arm.

"What would your "Delta Force" friends think of you in a moment like this, Kamijou-san?"

Touma scratched the back of his head, genuinely puzzled.

"I… That's a weird thing to bring up? I didn't really give it much thought. I mean, I guess they'd be pretty peeved. Especially Aogami. "WHAAA? You're with the Queen of Tokiwadai?! DIE! MY JEALOUSY HAS REACHED LEVELS BEYOND COMPREHENSION!"

Misaki giggled at the accurate impression, and pushed herself further inwards, nearly causing the unprepared Touma to tumble backwards.

"I wonder… how many would become jealous, if they were to see you receiving this… from me… out there?"

Misaki's lips pressed against Touma's, then. She'd leapt forward like a predator striking out at long-awaited prey. They were soft, delicate, warm. She tasted like the sweetest, most delicious honey.

Her prey gave in, despite himself. His muscled arms found their way around his predator's hips.

"I love you so," she remarked between repeated kisses. "Oh, how I love you… My Prince."

It was all spiraling so quickly. Raw instinct took control, guiding Touma's movements, steering his thought process. His hands left their position upon Misaki's hips, and found their way to the top of her partially unbuttoned shirt, the simple, short-sleeved collared shirt she wore beneath her Tokiwadai blazer.

One after the other, further buttons came undone, causing the shirt to split in either direction.

"Ahh… you want them? They belong to you… Do whatever you'd like with them. Anything."

Her cheeks, bright red like a beet, grew even more red. A wide, knowing smile spread across Misaki's face.

And so Kamijou Touma DID have his way with Shokuhou Misaki's ample bosom. She stifled her moans as much as she possibly could, holding the overwhelming desire to howl out in primal pleasure back with all of the psychological might she could muster.

She, the fifth-ranked level five, the one whose ability was "Mental Out", and the strongest user of that ability could barely control her own mind as her lover ravished her. Several times did she nearly slip into a state of detached pleasure, tongue lolling from her mouth, eyes rolling back into her head in quite an uncouth fashion.

Misaki pushed Touma's head in further, holding it against her heart, her arms folding along the back of his head.

"You are… mine… forever. Mine, all mine. No one… else's… mine~!"

Touma absently nodded his head as he continued his feast of flesh.

Before long, the situation escalated.

Touma, finally having sated his hunger, pulled himself away slightly, barely able to breathe. He did have to admit, silently to himself, that leaving the world behind in the embrace of a warm, soft bosom like Misaki's would ultimately be "very bitchin'".

"I love you too, so much."

Misaki's eyelids closed, and her smile widened.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Kamijou-san. You have no idea how you make my heart jump when you so much as look at me."

She opened her eyes once more, revealing again the bright, golden irises within, and their glowing star-shaped pupils.

Motioning to an inconspicuous box placed upon the surface of the nearby table, Misaki felt blood rush into her face with even more intensity than before.

"I took my tablet exactly twenty-four hours ago, Kamijou-san."

Touma's eyelids practically split open.

Her fingers were suddenly intertwined with Touma's own, Misaki's palms pressed against his.

"I could… reach over… and place one on you. Better to be safe than to be sorry, hm?"

The spiky-haired boy swallowed, hard. He certainly wanted this, more than anything.

" _Are we really ready?"_

" _Maybe we should wait…"_

" _What if, even with all of our protection, something STILL goes wrong?"_

" _Is this the responsible thing to do?"_

It was then that a soft, gentle kiss was placed upon Touma's cheek. Misaki's smile never faded, not for a moment. It only seemed to become even warmer. In truth, her adoration for him only increased steadily with each passing moment.

"Don't be afraid, Kamijou-san. I'm not a girl you stumbled into during some "accidental pervert" scene. You're safe with me, my Prince. I promise."

"I… Shokuhou-san, I want you so badly!"

"And I want you, Kamijou-san! Take me! Take all of me! TAKE ME, MY PRINCE!"

* * *

The rocking and bumping from the dorm next door couldn't be silenced by pillows or earplugs.

Tsuchimikado Motoharu was nearly driven to bash his head against the wall.

Where was Maika? Where was ANYONE who could relieve him of the madness?

"FIVE HOURS, FIVE HOURS?! THE MATING RITUAL OF KAMI-YAN NEVER ENDS!"


	2. Story 2

The tall, chain-link fence surrounding the outer perimeter of her closest friend's high school seemed like a convenient place to stand and wait about. Tokiwadai Middle School's classes ended approximately a half hour before this high school's did, which, by middle school standards, was still extraordinarily long.

Still, as a student of Tokiwadai Middle School, Shokuhou Misaki couldn't help but feel just a bit singled out. She stood out like a sore thumb, and she constantly received gazes. Some seemingly envious in nature, originating from other girls, perhaps those from less prestigious schools, some seemingly lustful, obviously originating from the many, **many** boys who walked the streets of Academy City's seventh school district at this hour.

Quite frankly, beyond the School Garden, Misaki was out of her element.

Still, spending as much time as she could with **him** topped any of her other, less important feelings. Even fifteen minutes out of an entire day would keep leave her filled, overflowing in fact, with positivity for weeks on end. There was something about that boy, something about him that made her very soul soar when she so much as glanced at him.

It was then, torn from her thoughts and returning to reality, that Shokuhou Misaki found herself beneath the combined shadow of two much larger, much stronger individuals…

* * *

"Kami-yaaaaaaan! Gonna meet up with your cute girlfriend again and ditch us?!"

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!"

What rotten luck. It seemed everyone arrived at the same conclusion; he and Shokuhou Misaki, "Tokiwadai's Queen", the fifth-ranked level five esper, were not only cohorts, but an item. Even Beauty-Senpai had fallen for such trickery, approaching him on several occasions and grilling him quite intensely on the matter.

What were they thinking? Were these people, all of them, out of their minds?

How could someone like him, a lowly, perpetually-broke level zero with very few redeeming qualities and a completely, utterly, stunningly ordinary outward appearance possibly, _possibly_ ever even dream to associate with a girl like Shokuhou romantically?

That's how Kamijou Touma assessed the situation.

"But, Kami-yan! It's obvious! You can't keep hiding your dirty little secret forever! Are you afraid of angering the rest of your harem?"

That remark, spouted off by the blue-haired boy, "BLAU", or "Aogami Pierce" as Touma better knew him – for better or for worse – by, was enough to cause the spiky-haired high school boy to clench his right hand into a tightened fist.

"You're asking for it, AOGAAMMIIIII!"

Pierce quickly placed an arm around Kamijou's shoulders, and pulled him into a friendly embrace; one so friendly, in fact, that Kamijou himself struggled to squirm his way out of it.

"You're like one of those protagonists from a love sim VN, Kami-yan! You can't hit me! It's not in your nature!"

"I already did, and I'll do it again! Damn it, AOGAMI! Let me go!"

Briefly, "BLAU" was reminded of the pummeling he'd received after Kamijou had learned of the 'incident' surrounding his controversial handing out of certain, interesting, dream-inducing cards. Some of which had featured lewd imaginings of the female level fives, Shokuhou Misaki included.

Aogami's entire face throbbed for a few moments, as if to further remind him of exactly what Kamijou Touma was truly capable of, when he genuinely, unironically, became enraged.

After finally freeing himself from Aogami's grip, Kamijou grumbled something about "misfortune" under his breath before stomping off, across the hall and towards the front entrance of the high school. Both Aogami Pierce and his co-conspirator, the blonde-haired boy in the tinted sunglasses, always with that shit-eating grin smeared across his face, Tsuchimikado Motoharu waved him off.

"If the harem finds out, you can always come stay with me in the bakery, Kami-yan! I'll make room!"

"SHUT! UP!"

After Kamijou had turned a corner, Tsuchimikado narrowed the distance between himself and his blue haired comrade.

"Oi. Aogami. Are we too rough with Kami-yan?"

"Nah. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just thinking."

* * *

Already frustrated – not only with the antics of his Delta Force 'frenemies' – for certain lack of a better term for the two dunderheads – but with his overall poor educational experiences, limited not only to the current day, but to the very aspect of it in general, not to mention the prospect of returning home to a demanding, hungry, nagging Index, and trying to hide all of his woes from the person he was genuinely fond of, it would've come as a surprise to no one who was aware of the boy's mental state that, upon seeing two broad-shouldered, tall, and muscled thuggish types standing before his friend, his first reaction was to break into a sudden run, fists clenched.

" _You'd better not have touched a hair on her head! Bastards… ARGH! Jeez! Such rotten luuucckkkk!"_

Yet, as he closed the distance between himself and his blonde-haired companion, he caught wind of his companion's interactions with those tall, towering thugs.

Clad in sagging denim pants and tight-fitting leather jackets, both equipped with shoulder pads studded with jutting, seemingly genuine metallic spikes, their strong-sculped, heavily-lined faces looked like nothing but trouble.

"Erm… Tasu… Kete… Kuda… Sai."

"Yeah. Uhh… So, uh… ari…gato? Kawaii?"

The two appeared to be staring down at a small booklet one held in his hands.

Giggling, Misaki folded her arms politely behind her back.

"I can speak English. My school teaches us. You're lost? Where were you headed?"

"Hallelujah!" One of the two proclaimed excitedly. "I'm Nick. This is my brother, Mick."

Without interruption, Mick offered a silent wave.

"We're lost. Academy City is hosting the annual "Thug Cosplay Convention" this year, but we can't find it. It's in some place outside the… erm… Dia-noid."

"Ah! The Dianoid!" Misaki exclaimed in recollection. "It's a mall, in the fifteenth school district. Quite possibly the largest structure in the district. You can't miss it."

Nick scribbled some notes in the booklet shared by he and his brother, while Mick took in the scenery. Once they were finished, they each bowed deeply, to which Misaki responded politely in kind.

"Thank you, miss! We'll be on our way!"

"Yeah! Thanks, lady! Can't be late! After the convention, we have to make a charitable donation to the Academy City Cancer Society."

As the two tall, brutish-looking men departed, Misaki heard a whisper in her ear.

"Can't judge books by their covers, huh?"

Starting, Tokiwadai's Queen soon calmed, as she realized just who had taken to standing behind her.

"Kamijou-san! You startled me," the Queen confessed with a sigh. "It's so wonderful to see you."

Taking the boy's arm into her own, wrapping both around the muscled limb, her glowing, starry eyes stared up at those of her Prince.

He really wouldn't ever truly know just how much she adored him.

"How was your day, today?"

Though, despite her desire to cling to the boy forever and ever, Misaki knew well enough how to take a hint. She could visibly detect his discomfort, and so she relented, instead walking at his side as the two made their way in departure from the high school.

He shrugged, seemingly indifferent. With his handbag tossed over his shoulder, Misaki took in for a moment just how utterly exhausted the boy looked. She could see it in the darkening bags beneath his eyes, and the paleness in his face.

"The usual. This Kamijou-san just can't seem to ever catch a break. I bet yours was a lot better, rich girl. How much tea did you sip?"

She giggled aloud.

It was so, **so** refreshing to be treated like a normal person. Not like some living god walking on the Earth. She had a soft spot in her heart, for all of her friends, yet, their devotion to her was unwavering. To a fault.

Maybe that was just one among billions of different, unique reasons why Shokuhou Misaki loved this boy so very much. She couldn't have known it, not visibly, but her cheeks had become bright, scarlet red.

" _I love you, Kamijou-san. I wish to spend the rest of eternity with you."_

She bit her lip, struggling to keep those words from spilling out of her mouth.

Some day. But today was not that day.

For the moment, Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma would continue to be "close friends".


	3. Story 3

"Wha—? Misaki?!"

"Hush now. Do you want to wake Index-san and spoil this?"

Her voice was soft, gentle, full of every single drop of adoration that filled every inch of her soul. Her words dripped with the unadulterated, raw, unconditional love she had for her boyfriend.

Was there a time when she _didn't_ dote on him?

Shokuhou Misaki pointed, lifting the covers of Kamijou Touma's sheets – which she'd only just disturbed in her efforts to clamber into bed with him – towards the slumbering form of Index, wrapped up in her bed's comforter like some sort of cocooning insect.

The dorm's second bed, where the little nun whose mind was the container for one hundred and three thousand magical Grimoires, "the Index Librorum Prohibitorum", slept, located not far from the sliding glass doors which lead out to the balcony, was a luxurious one. Far and away more extravagant than the bed which this dorm had actually come equipped with when its owner had first moved into it.

He had to admit, his girlfriend had a point.

"I can't turn down an offer like this, can I? Come 'ere, my queen."

"You need not make demands, my prince. I'd gladly spend all of my days in your arms."

And, in a moment's time, that was exactly where Misaki found herself; held tightly, lovingly in her prince's defined arms. Gently nuzzling herself closed as her own arms made their way around his back, snaking up to his shoulders, Misaki rubbed the tip of her nose against her boyfriend's own, and smiled a warm, breathtaking smile at him.

His eyes glistened beneath that smile; his lips parted, slightly. Despite himself, Kamijou Touma was taken aback with such force that he temporarily spaced out.

It was that same glowing, breathtakingly, stunningly beautiful smile she'd always provided for him. A seemingly supernatural force that could lift Kamijou's spirits even from the depths of Hell. From the time he'd woken up in his hospital bed after being beaten nearly to death by once-Saint "Acqua of the Back", to the months of mental and emotional recovery he'd spent in the psychotherapist's chair after his billions of universal run-ins with the once-Magic God, Othinus – a person who, through circumstances and fate had come to share domicile with the couple as a fifteen-centimeter-tall fairy – all the way to this, present moment, Shokuhou Misaki and her smile had always been there.

Touma's nascent embrace tightened, and he felt his beloved's own embrace upon him tighten in response.

They really _had_ been through so much together, hadn't they?

"I love you, Misaki. Thanks... Thanks for always being here for me. I love you _so_ much. I appreciate you _so_ much."

The burning, crimson blush which formed upon the starry-eyed, light blonde beauty's face overtook her natural skin tone. Her smile lost its steadiness as she giggled, burying her face into her boyfriend's own.

"And I love you, Touma! My handsome, gentle, loving prince... You need not thank me; as your future wife, my place is at your side, at all times."

Somehow, some way, despite their interactions being innocent in nature, wild, uncontrollable instincts seemed to claw into Kamijou. He felt every ounce of energy he had being poured into one, singular desire; as if there was one, singular course of action which he could take to achieve all that he'd ever wanted. His chest, wracked by a tickling sensation brought about by the fluttering of metaphorical butterflies' proverbial wings, and his rising manhood were greater symptoms of an underlying issue.

His lips met Misaki's own, and Touma nearly forced himself upon his girlfriend; she welcomed it as she welcomed his embraces, moments in which she could hold his hand, and the times in which the two could simply be together.

"Is someone feeling needy~?" Misaki inquired rhetorically, grabbing at the protruding, throbbing organ jutting from between her boyfriend's legs. "Hm~? Tell me, please~!"

"I'm really needy."

"Are you~?"

"Y-Yes…"

Having rolled onto his back, Touma placed either of his hands upon his girlfriend's curving, perfectly feminine hips as she made her way atop him. Misaki, resting either of her hands upon her boyfriend's chest, smiled down at him with gleaming, golden, starry eyes that practically oozed unconditional adoration.

"Let me milk you dry. Don't fret, my prince; I'll take care of your libido. As your future wife, it's my duty to tend to your sexual well-being~."

Pulling her sleepwear downwards so that it hung limp and loose around her ankle, Misaki freed Touma's pulsing manhood from its cotton prison; his sole article of sleepwear, a pair of loose-fitting boxers, were swiftly pulled downward to his knees.

And, with some manoeuvring…

In it went.

With the covers cast over them both – a massive, protruding, hill-like rise formed by Shokuhou Misaki's upright form cloaked beneath the bed's comforter – the starry-eyed Queen of Tokiwadai's eyelids shot open, and her lips parted. She bit down with some force, struggling to contain a moan.

Rather than bite into her tongue, Misaki chose an alternative means of silencing her body's desire to audibly manifest its pleasure; she instead leaned downward, and pushed her lips against Touma's own, moaning directly into his mouth with each loving, sloppy kiss she shared with him.

Thrusting downward, Misaki's entire body bucked. Her back arched, and her fingernails dug into Touma's shoulders.

Whatever pain he could've felt, Touma didn't experience it.

And, for some time, both remained that way; Shokuhou Misaki, pumping her posterior upward and downward, Kamijou Touma closing in on climax with each pumping thrust.

"M-Misaki…!"

"I'm… Haa… Haaaa… Listening, my prince… Always."

"I'm going to cum inside…!"

"Please... I need it! I have been taking my little pill every morning, like a responsible girl~! Cum inside as much as you'd like."

An almost predatory grin formed upon Misaki's face, as she placed either of hands upon her boyfriend's face, and then kissed his forehead.

"This body is… Haaaa… This body is yours. Just as you belong to me."

"I do belong to you, my queen..."

Her sparkling eyes met with Touma's own; Misaki ran her tongue over the boy's cheeks, leaving the occasional kiss trailing behind. She really did love it when he called her that. Her excitement boiled to a point, and, again, Misaki moaned into her lover's mouth.

"Any time you'd like to cum inside, just ask. I'll always have as much sex with you as you crave, my Touma… My prince…"

As if on cue, Touma's hands quickly took his girlfriend's own into them. Smiling at one another, the lovebirds interlocked their fingers.

"I'm… Fuck... Misaki… I'm going to…"

"Let it happen, my prince. We'll hold hands, like always. I know how much you love this… I love holding hands with you, too~."

And, with a monstrous thrust from Kamijou Touma – one so powerful that it lifted Misaki and his own lower body from the bed – the climax came. Shokuhou Misaki threw her head back; her long, golden hair flowed like the rippling waves of the ocean as she permitted her jaw to flop open and her tongue to loll outward in a most uncouth and improper fashion.

The life-bringing fluid's warmth exploded throughout her body. It surged from within her, reaching into the depths of her womb and filling Tokiwadai's Queen with a sense of purpose like no other. It was as warm as the light of some benevolent, heavenly being. It was as comforting as any embrace.

Touma's arms were around his girlfriend, then, and she welcomed his clinging openly.

"I love you so much, Misaki… I love you so, so much…"

"Cling as much as you'd like, my prince. Cling to me as tightly as you need."

Clinging to his emotional and mental anchor like a child might have clung to a doting protective figure, Kamijou Touma tightened his arms' embrace until it could feasibly tighten no longer.

"I love you too, Touma. More than I could ever put into words. More than I could ever hope to describe in any way, save for these physical exchanges of ours."

The gentle touch of her slender, feminine fingertips brought Kamijou Touma to a shuddering pinnacle. Shokuhou Misaki ran her fingers through his hair, tapping the back of her beloved's head with soft, individual pokes.

"I will _always_ be at your side, my Touma, my prince. There, there… Cling to me as tightly as you need. You're so loving… So long as you may cling, I will never let you go."

Truthfully speaking, he felt rather pitiable in this situation. It was a sort of primal desire to be loved, to be wanted, mixed with an equally primal desire to physically cling to that which provided so much light and love in his life, for him and him alone. Truthfully speaking, Kamijou Touma felt like something of an idiot, tightly hugging his girlfriend as he might've hugged his mother when he was but a boy.

Yet, it made sense, in a manner. Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Shiina had much in common.

" _Maybe that's why they get along so well."_

Touma looked up to her. Misaki peered down at him, holding his head lovingly, gently, supportively in her arms, close to her chest.

He was about to say something, in fact—

But the rumbling of his stomach silenced his words before they could emerge and take form. It was a loud, boisterous thing. It was prolonged, as if Touma's stomach was upset with him for depriving it of food.

"… You'll cook for this Kamijou-san?"

"Of course I will, my prince; to the best of my ability. You seem to forget that I'm no visionary of the culinary arts."

" _You_ seem to forget that for the longest time, I ate cheap ramen I could find in bargain bins; as long as it tastes good, I'll eat it."

Shokuhou Misaki poked her boyfriend's nose with her bare index finger, and giggled aloud.

"No more of that, my prince. Under my keen eye, your diet will always be balanced and healthy. As your future wife, it's my duty to look after your health."

Somehow, that sounded especially nice.

" _My future wife, eh? "Kamijou Misaki". I like it; has a really beautiful ring to it…"_


	4. Story 4

Whatever grim business _those two_ had been involved with – _he_ hadn't particularly been willing to say, and _she_ seemed to keep her thoughts to herself – Misaka Mikoto realized it had passed. As with so many of the particularly dark incidents that seemed to trouble _those two_.

The truth was more complicated than someone in Mikoto's position would have understood. The efforts of God's Right Seat's resident Saint, 'Acqua of the Back', had failed. Kamijou Touma and his right hand still lived, as did that girl with the long, light blonde hair and golden-coloured starry eyes, who hadn't left his side for even a moment throughout all of it.

For someone who had been beaten within inches of his life, only having recently recovered enough to be officially discharged from a hospital in Academy City's twenty-second school district, that spikey-haired boy seemed more alive than ever. He sat across Misaka Mikoto, next to the fifth-ranked level five esper, Shokuhou Misaki – his girlfriend – his right hand clutched tightly in her left, their fingers interlocked.

The three shared drinks around a gleaming, recently-cleaned table, round in shape and silver-coloured, one of several which were set up on the patio of one among many cafes in Academy City's seventh school district.

Given that there were others who shared the patio with them on this Saturday afternoon, Misaka Mikoto would have to make great efforts to keep her cool.

This proved to be something of a Herculean feat for Academy City's third-ranked level five. She could feel the twisting in her guts, the continuous shifting of her own vision. Nervousness had infected her, like some sort of vile pestilence. It addled Mikoto's strongest efforts to remain strong.

" _They're… They're so in love… And I can't keep on like this. I can't keep feeling like this towards them…"_

Mikoto clenched her fists.

" _I won't! This ends here, now!"_

Arcs of bluish-white electricity surged from the top of Mikoto's head. Her eyelids narrowed, and, struggling with her own thoughts – some urging her forward, others urging her to retreat and abandon her mission – she finally made an effort to say something, anything.

Nothing came out.

Her lips had parted; yet not a single word emerged. Not even a sound. It was as if Mikoto had temporarily been robbed of her ability to form even the most basic sentences.

"You seem greatly uncomfortable, Misaka-san. Are you certain you're well?"

"Y-Yeah, are you good, biribiri? Maybe we should…"

The Railgun raised a hand. Silently, she called for the couple to join her in that silence, before she finally, _finally_ willed herself over the edge, and spoke.

"Shokuhou… And… You… You. What do I even _call_ you? 'Idiot'? 'Kamijou-san'? 'Touma'? I…"

She threw her arms in the air, defeated. A sigh of exasperation escaped her. Mikoto was slowly losing the will to even care about how pathetic she seemed. Her words said everything she couldn't have. They were meek, filled with the weakness that always seemed to course through her veins when strength mattered the most.

"LOOK! I haven't been the most understanding with either of you. I can't apologize for the things I've done and said. I can't apologize for… For making you both feel like you can't just express yourselves around me. But I want to try and get over this one-sided _thing_ I've built up in my head."

Shokuhou Misaki tilted her head to one side, confounded. She and Kamijou Touma exchanged concerned glances; their hands' shared embrace tightened, slightly.

"Misaka-san…?"

"I'M SORRY!"

Mikoto had simply blurted it out; the conversations occurring around the three were not interrupted, and none of the other patrons dining out on the restaurant's patio appeared to have concerned themselves with it in the slightest.

"I'm sorry for being jealous of you! I'm sorry for always getting angry with you! I… I…"

Looking down at the gleaming, metallic surface of the table below her, Misaka Mikoto fought a losing civil war against herself; she warred with her own emotions as they clobbered her over the head, again and again.

"… I just want to be your friend. Both of you. I don't want to just… Storm off, angry, whenever I see you two together, anymore. Maybe…"

The Railgun wiped the sleeve of her Tokiwadai Middle School winter uniform across her face; that sleeve was suddenly damper, wetter than it had been before. It was all beginning to spill out, now.

"… Maybe I'm finally just coming to accept that _he_ is never going to be mine. Maybe I'm just finally accepting that you two _belong_ together. That you're really, truly happy together. That you love him, that you're so good to him, in ways I never could be."

Kamijou didn't really know what to say. He looked on at the pitiable Railgun – a girl with developed esper powers strong enough to take on the entire planet's military forces combined, by herself – reduced to a sniffling, shuddering little heap of a mess.

And, so, Touma didn't say anything at all.

"Misaka-san."

But Shokuhou Misaki, the Mental Out girl, did say something.

"Do you have any idea how big of you this is? Admitting to one's faults takes a great deal of self-reflection and bravery. We would both know of this. I, too, have done much self-reflection."

Temporarily distancing herself from her boyfriend, but only after providing him with a short, affectionate kiss on his lips, Shokuhou Misaki approached the girl she considered her 'rival', her 'competitor', and placed her hand, clad in her elbow-length white glove – most of which was rendered unseen by the wrist-length sleeve of her own Tokiwadai winter uniform's jacket – upon Mikoto's shoulder.

"Whatever wrongs you may have done, perceived or otherwise, you are forgiven, Misaka-san. I, for one, cannot agree more; the time for bickering ability and petty rivalry has long since passed."

"This is what I mean, Shokuhou!"

Mikoto couldn't even look at the Mental Out girl.

"All you've ever done is try to close the gap I've been making wider… Even Hokaze-san has pointed it out. You've only ever been friendly towards me! And all I've ever done is… Is lash out! Against both of you!"

"There, there, Misaka-san… I understand. All is well, I promise."

"It's not!"

Nearly leaping from her chair, Misaka Mikoto took Shokuhou Misaki into a friendly embrace. It was one the Mental Out girl quickly returned.

"I'm going to do everything I can to become a better person, Shokuhou! I'm _done_ being like this. I can't do it anymore. This is tearing me _apart_."

Breaking from the friendly embrace, Mikoto soon took Touma into one of the same intent. She wrapped her arms around that boy's shoulders, nearly falling onto him as her legs shook, having, from her perspective, taken on the physical properties of jelly.

"I've never been fair with you. Even after everything you and Shokuhou did… Not just for me, but for my Sisters. I still just kept on doing the same, ridiculous things to you… Can you ever forgive me?"

"I-It's really not that big of a deal, biribiri. You're making it sound like you're this evil, terrible person, when you're really not. Stop being so harsh on yourself. As for your Sisters, there's really not a whole lot to that. Me and Misaki did what anyone else in our position would've done."

There wasn't much to be done about it; Misaka Mikoto was crying. There was no way to stop this, now that the floodgates had been so voraciously ripped open.

As she broke the embrace, and returned to her seat at the table, trying to keep the matters these three people shared discrete – so far, no one else on the patio had seemed to notice them, even still – the Railgun witnessed as Shokuhou Misaki quickly took either of her boyfriend's hands into her own, and placed them gently upon her lap. All of their fingers were soon interlocked with one another. Touma pulled his chair closer to her, and rested the side of his head upon his girlfriend's shoulder.

After all those two had recently been through – whatever it might have been – Mikoto wasn't particularly surprised that the exceedingly affectionate couple wished to keep each other within arms' reach.

"It feels…"

The Railgun smiled through her free-falling tears. "It feels good to finally get all of that stuff off my chest. It was really weighing me down, you know? I can't believe _this_ is all it took..."

"My only wish is that you would have done so sooner, Misaka-san," Misaki confessed. "If we can begin to break down this barrier that exists between you and I, we may truly form a formidable bond of friendship ability."

"Better late than never," was Touma's contribution to the exchange. "Keeping everything pent up inside and letting it build up isn't good. You'll just explode one day."

Nodding in agreement, Misaka Mikoto finally took a long, stiff sip of her drink, through her straw. She nearly sucked up half of the sugary drink before she gave herself a moment to breath.

"So, uh… Shokuhou? K-K-Kamijou-san…? S-Sorry, it's really _weird_ to say your name like this…"

"Touma's fine, biribiri."

The Railgun bit into her lip.

"Shokuhou! Touma! You need to tell me everything that's been happening with you! You're always slinking off, and it's not just to find some corner to… To _make out_ in! What's been happening with you? Where did that nun you live with come from? I just want to help… That's all…"

Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma exchanged glances for a brief, few moments.

Then, as if they'd come to silent agreement, both picked up their drinks, and silently motioned for Misaka Mikoto to follow. She did just that, quickly cluing in that something was amiss; something was, indeed happening. Something which couldn't be spoken about openly, in public.

Eventually, after finding a small, enclosed private park in Academy City's seventh school district – a place where the only other living souls were scavenging birds who couldn't have possibly cared any less about what three hushed, whispering people were hissing to one another about – the trio sat themselves upon a homey little wooden bench, shaded by the nurturing presence of a nearby tree whose outstretched, leaf-laden branches provided a natural, cooling canopy.

The couple provided all they could in terms of explanations. From the morning they'd met the little nun, Index Librorum Prohibitorum together, all the way to the present.

Mikoto hadn't interrupted once. She'd only nodded occasionally, to indicate that she was, in fact, digesting as much as she could of the couple's explanations.

It, all of it, made the Railgun realize just _why and how_ Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma had come to be so tightly-knit, so loving and appreciative of one another.

" _Shokuhou and_ _ **him**_ _, they've been through more than I ever could've imagined… Together, the whole way, all the way since last September… I never stood a chance."_

Breaking herself free from her thoughts, Mikoto made an effort to summarize all that she'd heard, in order to confirm she truly understood.

"So, what you mean to tell me is that there's this secret 'other side' of the world, where people practice entirely different cultures, and cast magic spells, and use rituals, instead of using science and technology and esper abilities…"

Crossing one leg over the other's thigh, exposing the beige shorts she wore beneath her winter uniform's skirt, slightly, Mikoto quietly pondered.

"… If you two were anyone else, I'd call you both liars and be pretty mad. But I actually DO believe you. You're both always getting into these weird situations. Like during the attack on Academy City last month… Which, as you say, was also perpetrated by this 'Magic Side', and _not_ by some other country who developed their own espers, like the news said…"

Resting her forehead in the palm of her hand, Mikoto took a long, deep breath.

"How do you put up with all this insanity, Shokuhou?"

The Mental Out girl's eyes gleamed.

"That is a simple question, one with an equally simple answer ability, Misaka-san; I _love_ this boy. I _love_ Touma. I _love_ my boyfriend. I intend to be at his side for the rest of my life, and for all of eternity to come. I intend to stand by him no matter what challenges we face together, no matter how one-sided our situation may become."

Misaki, wrapping her arms around Touma, took him into a warm, tight embrace. Placing an affectionate kiss to the top of his head, pushing past his short locks of dark, spikey hair, the Mental Out girl smiled a wide, unconditionally adoring smile, her cheeks as red as a beet. It was an embrace Touma returned, adoringly.

"You know, biribiri," Touma spoke as he settled into the warm, loving embrace provided by his girlfriend, "I'm not totally innocent, either. Most of the time, even up until recently, I was always trying to handle everything by myself, even if it got me hurt. Misaki was the one who always insisted on coming along… And I'm in a position now where I realize I'm glad she always did. Figuring things out is something we all have to do at some point or another. We're going to be here to help you figure _your_ things out, alright?"

Misaka Mikoto nodded wordlessly; to say she didn't feel deeply jealous would be a colossal lie. Yet, with everything she'd ever held within herself finally out in the open, aired out like so much dirty laundry, the Railgun felt this sort of situation to be less of a burden than usual.

" _All it took was a bit of courage and a few minutes to… Just… Get everything_ _ **out**_ _."_

Though the wounds were still present- figuratively and literally – Mikoto decided to open the most recent, proverbial can of worms a bit more. Look a bit deeper into that can's darkened depths.

"This crazy magic-person you two were up against this time, 'Acqua', how did you actually _beat_ him?"

"Beat" isn't the right word," Touma admitted sheepishly. "He's a monster. You can't really 'beat' someone like him. You just have to try and get out of his way, and avoid getting turned into a pile of Mystery Meat Surprise. This Kamijou-san has first-hand experience, there… Honestly? Misaki and the Amakusa did most of the legwork."

Academy City's third-ranked level five esper quickly caught the slight frown which formed upon Shokuhou Misaki's face. It was a fleeting thing, something which quickly faded; it was as if she just experienced a painful sensation.

"Misaka-san, developing a new 'category' with my ability is oftentimes a painstaking endeavor. Such requires calculated effort and a fundamental understanding of several, unique branches of neuroscience.

"To even have a _hope_ of slowing a terrifying monstrosity like 'Acqua of the Back', I was forced to contrive a new ability 'category' on-the-fly, based entirely outside of even the most advanced scientific understanding. " **Category 616: Subvert the Magical Mind**. Even with this brand new ability category, manipulating and attacking the mind of 'Acqua' was less a solution, and much more a delaying of the inevitable."

Misaki's embrace upon her boyfriend tightened dramatically. She buried most of her face into his shoulder, and kissed his neck.

"… An inevitably which did not come to pass. Very, deeply thankfully."

Reaching into one of her Tokiwadai winter uniform jacket's pockets, Misaka Mikoto produced a small coin; it was one that could've been found in one of Academy City's many arcades.

"Shokuhou, Kamij—I mean, Touma, I won't ever allow anything like that to happen to you again. From now on – and I MEAN IT! – I'm gonna help. I won't take "no" for an answer! That's my promise to you! Because… Because… BECAUSE YOU'RE MY **FRIENDS**!"

"… I'm not turning away anyone's help ever again, biribiri. So, you're on."

"Thank you, Misaka-san. Together, we will tear down this wall. We will become the friends we were always meant to be."


	5. Story 5

Kamijou wasn't exactly sure how this had happened; it had all been something of a blur. He quietly wondered to himself if those four girls had purposely snuck up on him and his girlfriend as they'd been walking on their own.

With her own arms still wrapped tightly around his – a sensation he couldn't have thanked his girlfriend enough for providing onto him – Shokuhou Misaki held Kamijou Touma's right hand in her own hands, her fingers interlocking with his, her thumb gently, repeatedly stroking his hand's palm. Misaki's long, sumptuous light blonde hair was tied into an elegant ponytail; her golden, starry eyes were filled with unconditional adoration for the boy she held onto.

Garbed in the long-sleeved, navy blue winter uniform shirt of the high school she and her boyfriend attended together, trimmed with white and accented by a large white bow as well as a matching, knee-length pleated skirt, Academy City's fifth-ranked level five, even while not necessarily dressed to do so, still impressed. Especially given her thigh-high white stockings and matching, elbow-length gloves.

Alongside them were four others; Misaka Mikoto, Academy City's third-ranked level five with her short, chestnut brown hair and her grey-coloured Nagatenjouki winter uniform. Shirai Kuroko, with her tawny twintails held in place by bright red, intricately-tied ribbons and her uniform matching Mikoto's own. Saten Ruiko, a younger girl with long, straight, dark-coloured hair, adorned in the dark blue uniform of her own high school, consisting of a long-sleeved sailor's top and a knee-length, pleated skirt. Close to her was a girl who wore upon her head of short, dark-coloured hair a wreath of colourful, artificial flowers; Uiharu Kazari. She, too, wore that high school's uniform.

The six, having walked about Academy City's seventh school district for some time had finally settled upon a destination – that family restaurant everyone seemed to prefer above all others, Joseph's Coffee and Restaurant.

"S-Saten-san…? You're staring…"

"Uiharu! I can't help it!" Ruiko confessed, turning to face her friend with eyes overflowing with what looked like some glimmering sheen. "They're so CUTE TOGETHER! One true pairing!"

The flower-headed girl chuckled under her breath; she _really_ didn't want her friend getting caught engaging in this sort of embarrassing behaviour.

To Touma's surprise, he was soon faced by a girl who only some months ago had been out to have his head on a pike; she'd called him all sorts of things. "Monkey bastard", "ape", and "troglodyte" had really just been the tip of the iceberg.

Of course, Kamijou Touma was not one to dwell on such things; he'd simply allowed this girl's insults to fall from him like raindrops sliding from the surfaces of a raincoat.

"Kamijou-san!" She exclaimed happily, offering the boy a seemingly genuine smile, "we'll take one of these circular booths! That way, you can be close to Shokuhou-san, and I can be close to… Close to… **Onee-sama** …"

Zap.

The twintails girl's efforts to begin feeling Academy City's third-ranked level five up from behind were thwarted with a swift jolt of electricity, one which travelled all throughout Kuroko's body and left her a shuddering mess.

"Onee-sama's love whip! It feels so good! Onee-sama! More! MORE!"

"Leave Touma and Misaki out of your scheming, Kuroko!" Mikoto snarled, her clenched fist immediately pressed viciously into the top of her roommate's head as she dragged the still-twitching girl towards the nearest booth.

"It is hardly a problem worth becoming angry over, Misaka-san," Misaki pointed out. "What I am glad for is that Shirai-san has found it in her heart to treat my beloved prince more kindly."

Despite their best efforts, neither Saten Ruiko nor Uiharu Kazari could stifle their laughter. It was a spectacle, for certain. Neither could Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki, the latter of whom placed a white-gloved finger to her lips playfully.

"… I think that's only happening because we're together, beautiful girl," Touma remarked with some caution. Truthfully, he still didn't trust Shirai Kuroko all that much.

"Uiiihaaarruuuuu! Did you hear that?! Kamijou-san called Shokuhou-san beautiful! AWWWWWW!"

"I-I heard it, S-Saten-san!"

The level zero girl just couldn't seem to stop her swooning.

Joseph's Coffee and Restaurant wasn't particularly fanciful; it didn't have to be. Its booths were red-coloured, its soft cushions light pink. The silver-tiled flooring and cool, beige ceilings accentuated, rather than clashed with, the colourful establishment. Freshly-cleaned windows with their pull-down blinds fully raised permitted the sun's rays to beam inward, and warm the restaurant's patrons.

Shokuhou Misaki neatly, elegantly sat herself down in the booth Misaka Mikoto had picked out; Shirai Kuroko had been stuffed unceremoniously into her seat there, upside down and still twitching from the electroshocks she'd been jolted by. Placing her purse with its glimmering, golden-coloured chain strap beside her carefully, Misaki patted her thighs. Her golden, starry eyes locked with her boyfriend's own. She smiled welcomingly at him, her cheeks slowly reddening.

"Would you like to sit in my lap, my prince?"

Saten Ruiko's expression changed to one of abject shock.

" _This is… This is it! This is the Urban Legend I've heard so much about! This is the legendary "_ _ **Kami-yan Role Reversal**_ _!"_

It certainly didn't take Kamijou any time to respond; like a bat rushing straight out of Hell, the boy with the mysterious power in his right hand practically leapt upon his girlfriend.

"YES! SUCH FORTUNE! Finally, this Kamijou-san can be relieved of his troubles once again!"

Seated in his girlfriend's lap, Kamijou's right hand was taken into Shokuhou Misaki's own hand; the other found its way to the top of the boy's head. Shokuhou Misaki gently placed Touma's face against her bosom and lovingly patted him as she held his hand, tightly, warmly.

"There, there, my prince. Settle in nicely and let your girlfriend take _good_ care of you~."

Kamijou Touma was at peace, his expression having curled into a contented, fulfilled smirk.

"The "Kami-yan Role Reversal!" Ruiko exclaimed excitedly, tossing her head back and forth, peering between a chuckling, smug-seeming Misaka Mikoto and a confused-looking Uiharu Kazari. "This is a moment I don't want to miss! This is a real, live Urban Legend unfolding before our eyes! It's INCREDIBLE! It's like nothing I've ever seen before…"

Shirai Kuroko, having recovered from the administering of her upperclassman's "love whip", took advantage of the moment.

"Onee-sama…" Kuroko began, moving her fingers gently over the Railgun's partly-exposed thigh, "Oh, why won't you provide me with such comfort too, onee-sama?"

" **KUROKO**!"

Zap.

"AHAHAH! ONEE-SAMA'S WHIPS OF LOVE! I CAN'T GET ENOUGH! AHAHAHA! AHAHA!"

As the smoking, twitching Kuroko surrendered once more, a blushing Misaka Mikoto took charge of the situation.

"A-Alright… What is everyone ordering? A waitress should come around with menus soon. I'm getting a parfait."

Ruiko didn't even have to think on it; immediately, she announced, "a sundae! A LARGE sundae!"

"Maybe some crepes for myself…" Kazari remarked thoughtfully, her eyes' vision moving to the restaurant's ceiling as she seemed to give the matter a bit more thought, before settling into a final decision.

"A Caesar salad."

Shokuhou Misaki's announcement left at least one of the people at that table a bit surprised; Misaka Mikoto probably should have figured better by this point. Still, the Railgun couldn't help but be taken aback, just a bit.

" _Now that I take a better look at her, Shokuhou's arms are getting bigger, aren't they? She's got a little bit of actual muscle on her… What a world._ _ **Shokuhou**_ _exercising."_

Kamijou Touma seemed to be having a hard time to decide on anything; perhaps because he was already so fulfilled. Gently nuzzling his girlfriend's bosom, causing the honey-scented girl to softly coo and pet him even more lovingly, Touma wasn't particularly in a position to need much of anything at all.

"I guess I'll just have a soda; pack on the pounds and become a slob."

"Oh, not on my watch, you won't."

The couple looked into one another's eyes. Kamijou Touma's dark irises met Shokuhou Misaki's glimmering, golden, starry ones.

An expression of mock-determination formed upon that boy's face.

"This is a rebellion, my Queen! You hold no sway over me!"

The honey-scented, light blonde girl looked on mirthfully. She wore the sort of shit-eating grin one who was completely assured in their victory would wear, just as they conquered wide swathes of a battlefield, devastating their foe utterly.

An intrigued Saten Ruiko watched on, absorbing every moment of the faux-drama. Uiharu Kazari had produced her phone, and was evidently attempting to communicate something to Shirai Kuroko, likely regarding their shared judgment duties; this, at least had taken some pressure off Misaka Mikoto, who too watched the unfolding 'altercation' – if it could be called such – with an attentive eye.

"I don't, Touma? Tsk, tsk. Ill-behaved boyfriend of mine…"

Misaki leaned in, towards her dearest beloved's face, her eyelids narrowing.

"Perhaps I must show you who remains in charge, then, hm? Should I punish you?"

" _YESSSSS! This Kamijou-san's scheming has paid off!_ _ **This**_ _side of Misaki is coming out! Such fortune! Finally, I can fulfil my demented fetishes once again, without having to be straightforward about it!"_

The honey-scented girl's lips were pressed against the outside of her boyfriend's ear. As Misaki softly, repeatedly breathed into his ear cannel, Touma shivered unconsciously. Warm, tingling sensations rushed all throughout him, rising from his lower body all the way to the top of his head.

"I know exactly what you want, my prince; and I will provide it to you exceedingly happily, when a scenario in which we can find ourselves alone becomes readily available."

"Y-You… You totally knew all along, didn't you…?"

His whisper's shaky delivery was filled with his own admission of guilt.

"Yes. Of course I did. Do you think you can hide from me? I need not read your mind with my ability to see right through you. You do not need to hide from me. Ever. I love and accept you for who you are, Touma."

"I love you too, beautiful…"

"We will explore your fetishes together. I promise, Touma, you always be safe with me."

His arms were around her immediately; Shokuhou Misaki gently cradled Kamijou Touma as he began to lovingly kiss the underside of her jawline.

"When such an opportunity presents itself before us," Misaki whispered softly, returning Touma's embrace, "I will **step all over you**."

Unable to hear what the two were whispering to one another about, Misaka Mikoto merely blurted out a harsh proclamation; "Get a room!"

Ultimately, a waitress did wind up coming around. She'd recorded the orders of those who sat around the circular table's semicircular booth, and hurried off to deliver the orders for preparation. Kamijou Touma did get his soda, in the end.

With the couple settled back into one another's arms – Touma's had enwrapped his girlfriend's hips, and Misaki's had wrapped themselves tightly around her boyfriend's shoulders – Saten Ruiko finally decided to speak up.

A part of her _did_ feel bad for interrupting the moment. Both of them looked completely at peace, holding one another as they did.

"Kamijou-san, could I ask you a question?"

It took the boy a few moments to physically respond as his eyelids fluttered open. They'd been closed, and, in truth, with Misaki's warm, comforting presence in his arms, Touma had nearly fallen asleep there.

"Yeah, hit me Saten-san. Just, uh, nothing about 'Great Demons'. This Kamijou-san doesn't have any exposition to dump."

Ruiko's eyes lit up.

Demons?

Surely, that had something to do with an Urban Legend. There was no doubt. Demons were just the sort of thing a girl like her was after. Another lead! Was _he_ an Urban Legend hunter, too?

Of course, she didn't know the truth. She didn't know what this day represented. A girl like Saten Ruiko couldn't have possibly understood that it was exactly a year since the day of the great conflict waged in Edinburgh Castle.

"I've heard a _lot_ about you, Kamijou-san. A lot of people say your right hand can destroy esper powers. I've been following the Urban Legends surrounding you for ages! You're… "the level zero."

Ruiko had spoken the title like a seeker of dubiously-extant megafauna might have spoken the name of some purported relict population of primordial ape-man.

"He also saved people from the Graviton Bomber a while back," Mikoto helpfully pointed out, making an effort to remind her legend-chasing friend that Kamijou Touma wasn't another one of her precious cryptids, but a fellow human being. "That's… Well, I guess that's just what he does."

"Not anymore."

Both Ruiko and Mikoto turned to face Touma. That indomitable expression of determination had come over him; it was not a playful one, like that which he'd worn while teasing his girlfriend. Smiling gratefully, the Railgun couldn't help be reminded of when that boy had faced down Academy City's number one strongest esper.

"There're a lot of other people here in this City who can do the same job I did just fine. I'm not a part of that anymore. I can't be. Not if I want to be here for Misaki. Not if I ever want to have a normal life with her."

Shokuhou Misaki's embrace tightened. Gently, she nuzzled the side of her face against her boyfriend's shoulder.

" _My prince… My gentleman… My loving, affectionate, precious one… Every day, I only grow to love you more... Every day with you is another day in Heaven."_

"… This girl is the most important person in the world to me, and I'm going to be the best I can be for her. Being the best I can be… That means letting the 'hero' stuff go. Not running off and dragging her around with me all the time, or worse, leaving her behind, scared for my safety."

Turning her boyfriend's face towards her with a soft nudge of her hand, Misaki swiftly pressed her lips to Touma's own, and provided him with a quick, but deeply passionate kiss.

"And you, my prince, are the most important person to me. You _are_ my world… There is nothing I would not do for you. I _love_ you, _so_ very much. I too seek to become only the best I can be, for you. All for you, and you alone, my beloved prince. My Touma…"

"AWWWWWWWW! IT'S SO WHOLESOME!" Ruiko swooned, enjoying every passing moment.

Misaka Mikoto merely smiled, then looked briefly to Kuroko; she was preoccupied with Kazari. In hushed tones, the Judgment members discussed something unknown to anyone but them. Something fluttered in the Railgun's stomach. Something. She'd push it down, bury it, pretend it had just never been there.

Only after enjoying their soon-delivered food items, and subsequently departing with many a friendly goodbye – Misaka Mikoto easily covered the bill – from Joseph's Coffee and Restaurant, going their separate ways, Mikoto with her friends in one direction, Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma in another, did that spikey-haired boy finally feel comfortable enough to begin gently stroking his girlfriend's thigh as they walked together, back in the direction of their shared dorm.

"Hm? What's this, then, my prince? Oohhhhh. I see. Oh… You're feeling _needy_ ~."

Touma was already struggling to contain the slowly-rising bulge in his school uniform's constricting pants.

"Y-Yeah… Misaki, can we…"

"Of course. As your future wife, it is my sworn – and much beloved – duty to tend to your sexual health."

All the way on throughout the walk back to the dorm he shared with his girlfriend, Kamijou Touma had felt it rushing throughout him. A hot, tingling desire unlike any other. It was potent, powerful, mind-altering. It brought the spikey-haired boy to the very edge of madness, so mighty was its grip upon him.

Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma entered their dorm together, closing, then locking the door behind them. The familiar place was a safe haven, no matter how cramped it had become, given Index's own separate bed, Othinus' large, expansive dollhouse, and the various amenities which Misaki required for her everyday routine – including a majestic, oaken-carved vanity.

"We really need to look for a place, Misaki," Touma admitted sheepishly. "We're going to be up to our necks here soon."

"I would love nothing more, my prince. A home of our very own… Such a lovely thought!"

"It would be _the_ best, beautiful girl. Our home, where we can be together. A home where we can do whatever we want… Whenever we want. Without having to even think about cheap, thin walls."

Despite himself, Touma crept up on her, closing the distance between himself and his beloved one before they could even remove their footwear.

Her golden, starry eyes. Her silky smooth, porcelain skin. Her long, flowing, sumptuous, honey-scented hair. It was all enough to bring Touma to a shuddering pinnacle. His arms found themselves around Misaki's waist, and, before long, she was pressed against the wall of the dorm's entranceway.

"I want you, Misaki."

Leaning inward, he placed a deep kiss, filled to the proverbial brim with passion to her neck. The Mental Out girl quietly moaned in pleasure; Misaki's delicate hands found themselves ruffling her lover's hair, her arms around his shoulders.

"A-And I want you, m-my prince… Take me…"

They would've heard Index, the little silver-haired nun girl whose mind contained over one hundred thousand Grimoires, if she were about. The dorm's small size had its advantages, after all.

Something welled up inside of him. Cold, intense, like a fist had just suddenly taken him into its grip and had begun crushing him.

Worry struck Kamijou over the head; paternal instinct caused him to break away, though he quickly took his girlfriend's hand into his own, partly to compensate and partly to ensure he didn't lose himself.

"Index? You here? Sorry we're late…"

No answer.

"Alright, don't panic."

He breathed in, deeply.

"Kitchen. Gotta be a note there."

Scavenging as he could with a concerned Misaki not far behind, as soon as his vision fell upon that piece of paper, crudely-torn from some pad nearby, Touma's anxiousness settled, returning to whatever carnal corner of his higher mind it had broken free from. Touma took the note from the kitchen's counter into his hand and surveyed its contents.

" _Out w Hyouka! You two kooks had your phones off LOL! Be home tonight, LOVE YOU!_

_Index"_

"Phew."

Touma found himself embraced, swiftly; his rapidly-beating heart told Misaki all she needed to know without her boyfriend having to utter a word.

"Look at you," the Mental Out girl chided, patting Touma on his cheeks, softly. "You are as white as a ghost. Rest calm. I am right here; and as you can plainly see, Index is just fine. There, there… Everything is going to be okay."

Misaki's lips connected with Touma's own; he was back in her arms once again. Each warm, passionate kiss pulled him farther and farther from the waning grip of anxiousness.

"I love you, Misaki… I love you, so, _so_ much…"

"And I love you, Touma. Rest calm. There is nothing for you to fear. All is well! I will take good, proper care of you. There, there... In fact… I know _exactly_ what will take your mind away from your near-panic."

Slipping her loafers off, Shokuhou Misaki trekked to the small, single-person bed she shared only with her beloved prince, sat herself down upon it, and stretched. Producing a soft moan as her body stretched upwards, Misaki soon settled.

"Hm. The dormitory's heating system must be working properly. I am finding it quite warm… I ought to disrobe a bit."

Slowly, methodically, smiling her warm, bright smile, her cheeks alight with a crimson blush, Misaki never broke eye contact with Touma as she peeled off her stockings, then, her gloves.

"My Queen…"

Kamijou could last no longer; the last of whatever resistance he'd built up failed. Worry slipped away, replaced by a desire to satisfy his cravings for his girlfriend. The sexually submissive aspect of Kamijou Touma took hold, while the dominant aspect rested, quietly, in the back of his subconscious mind.

Quickly closing what distance there was, sweat beginning to drip from his brow as his entire body became superheated from the sheer desire he was wracked by, Touma fell upon his hands and knees like a desperate manservant begging for his job. It was embarrassing.

Yet, it felt good.

Two different feelings fought in a tug-of-war inside him. It was the acting out of a fantasy that seemed to so often be neglected.

"My Queen… My Queen!"

Shokuhou Misaki's expression became one a haughty royal might've worn while addressing some lowly wretch who'd dragged themselves into her royal chambers. Removing the band which kept her hair managed in a ponytail, Misaki tossed her head back, shaking her neck from one side and then to the other, as if issuing a challenge. Her unfettered, light blonde hair flowed like the calm, still surface of a majestic river.

Moving to kiss his girlfriend's bare legs, Touma was surprised to find himself slapped away; they were gentle, harmless strikes. They wouldn't have even damaged a single leg on the tiniest of insects.

He felt a surge of pleasure crash over him. Biting into his lip, Touma shuddered unconsciously, his manhood throbbing.

"Who said you could touch me, peasant? I do not recall giving you permission."

"I-I'm terrible s-sorry, my Queen…!"

"As you should be."

Kamijou's doubts faltered. Whatever embarrassment or youthful shame he'd felt as a result of making manifest some of his most deeply-held, repressed and obscured sexual hang-ups were no match for this feeling, this sensation of pleasure incomprehensible.

Despite the act, the fronted aspect of his favoured fantasy adopted by his girlfriend, Touma knew as well as he knew himself that Shokuhou Misaki was _not_ judging him. That he was safe with her. That he could trust her.

"How _dare_ you even approach me with those clothes on? Remove them at once, peasant."

"Y-Yes, my Queen!"

It was an order he would obey. Touma feverishly disrobed, observing with a masked, but smug sense of superiority when Misaki's eyelids widened as she beheld his enormous, fully erect manhood. He was nearly eight inches.

Being naked with her was the opposite of troubling; perhaps the first time it had been something of a daunting task. Maybe even a bit frightening. Exposing one another, becoming vulnerable with each other. But such acts of self-sacrifice had built that which now stood stronger than any force imaginable; a loving, respecting romantic relationship built on the unshakable foundations of mutual understanding, endless commitment, and unconditional adoration.

Shokuhou Misaki couldn't help but bite into her lip; even if the illusion was temporarily broken, the mask falling from her face, Misaki could salvage this.

" _If this play helps my most beloved prince feel sexually satisfied, then, I will do all that I can to ensure I perform at my absolute best."_

Stiffening her expression again, Misaki cupped her chin between her index finger and thumb. She observed her boyfriend's phallus, seemingly thoughtfully.

"Adequate."

Turning her head and fluffing her hair with a long, purposeful toss of her arm through its blonde, honey-scented locks, the Mental Out girl remarked, unenthused, "Alright, you lowly cretin. You may begin."

He'd held back for as long as he'd been able; nearly throwing himself upon his girlfriend, Touma descended upon her bare legs like a rabid animal tasting raw meat for the first time in days. His lips were upon them, his tongue gliding over them, leaving trails of saliva behind which glimmered beneath the light.

The spikey-haired boy's cheeks burned a bright shade of red.

As if to assure him, Misaki gently, lovingly patted her lover's head, running her soft, delicate, bare fingers through his short dark-coloured locks.

"You are blushing…"

"I-I know… Heh… This is… It feels so good. Tastes so good…"

Barely able to speak, Kamijou Touma groaned in sheer, unadulterated pleasure as he placed a long, passionate kiss to Shokuhou Misaki's exposed thigh; having lifted his girlfriend's skirt, he worked himself raw.

"M-My Queen…" Touma muttered absently, lost in detached pleasure. "I've needed this… For so long…"

"Good boy. There's a good boy. My prince is such a good boy."

"Haaaaa… Y-Yes! P-Please call me that more! Misaki! Please!"

"You like being called "good boy", do you?"

"Y-YES!"

"Then you will be your Queen's good boy."

Provided with ample time to continue as he pleased, Kamijou Touma continually had his way with his girlfriend's legs, his manhood throbbing and twitching with each kiss, each long, passionate lick of his warm tongue.

Suddenly, Touma was taken into Misaki's arms; she moved him onto the bed – tossed him, practically – a sinister glint in her golden, starry eyes. Descending upon her boyfriend, unable to restrain herself for even a moment longer, Misaki grabbed Touma's manhood, and, rising just above it, thrust downward; she shoved the organ into her mouth.

He gripped the comforter beneath him, his expression turning to one of straining pleasure as his girlfriend worked him, her lips gliding upward and downward as her head bobbed. Misaki moaned aloud, starry eyes rolling back into their sockets with each continually strengthening thrust.

Rising, slightly, so that he was sitting on the bed's edge, Shokuhou Misaki's crimson blush only deepened as she subsequently retreated, following the changing tides of lovemaking. The tables had turned. Kamijou Touma had taken charge.

"F-FUCK! Y-Your mouth is so good!"

Gently taking her head into either of his hands, Touma helped his beloved along, guiding her thrusts. He felt her tongue sliding over his shaft, along its exposed, sensitive head. Each thrust, each lick, each and every motion tugged Touma closer and closer to climax.

But, she wouldn't let him.

With a quick inhalation of air, Shokuhou Misaki parted, grinning from ear to ear. Both she and Kamijou Touma's faces glowed bright, intense shades of red.

"You…"

Throwing herself into his waiting arms, Misaki pushed Touma back onto their waiting conjugal bed. Their gazes locked, and, before long, both lovers had taken one another's hands into their own, fingers interlocking.

"You are going to finish inside."

The most medically advanced oral contraceptive coursed throughout Shokuhou Misaki's bloodstream.

"… If you are comfortable, my prince. If you do not wish to, you do not have to. My body's impulses gained control over my reasonable calculation ability…"

Kamijou nodded, his grip upon his girlfriend's hands tightening.

"I want it, Misaki."

"How badly do you want to cum inside? Hm?"

"I, uh... I want it as badly as a fat kid wants cake!"

"M-My prince... Please. Goodness me. How cheesy. I will pretend that you did not say something so ridiculous."

"Suits me just fine, beautiful girl."

"Silly, handsome boyfriend of mine. Handsome. Loving. Tender. Affectionate. Caring... Gentle... Thoughtful... Understanding... Perfect. My perfect Touma."

Taking his fully-erect manhood into her hand, gently, Misaki rose slightly, working to guide the throbbing, reddened organ, until…

Until she took it into herself. Feeling it push into her most sensitive cavity, experiencing the sensation of her walls gripping tightly onto it, Misaki couldn't help herself; she moaned aloud, bending backward, thrusting her buxom chest forward and causing her fully-developed, round breasts to bounce.

Kamijou Touma swiftly grabbed onto one and pulled, gently.

"M-Misaki… Beautiful? Does this hurt at all?"

"Ahhh... You are such a gentleman... No, my prince! It feels spectacular! More! More! Haaaa! Use your hands, take both! **PLEASE**! They are all for you, and you alone!"

It was an offer Kamijou would take his girlfriend up on; grasping onto both, feeling their warmth, the squishy, soft sensation they provided when they shifted beneath his hands, the lovebirds' gazes never drifted from one another.

For nigh-on forty-five minutes Kamijou Touma had lasted without bucking under the pressure of orgasm. An arduous task, but one which offered much reward. Shokuhou Misaki couldn't have possibly looked any more pleasured than she appeared. In a particularly uncouth and unladylike manner, her tongue lolled from between her lips, and her golden, starry eyes had rolled back into their sockets. She bounced, and bounced. She thrust, and thrust. In less than an hour, Misaki she had lost herself in orgasm many times. There wasn't much more the Mental Out girl could take; the pleasure simply continued building, and building.

Until…

Until…

"M-Misaki! FUCK! I'm… I'm going to…"

Kamijou's arms wrapped his girlfriend in a tight embrace, and he pulled her close to him; the embrace was swiftly reciprocated. The warmth of Shokuhou Misaki's body, the feeling of being held in her arms, as he held her in his, was enough to bring him over the edge, with finality.

For the briefest of moments all became clear. It was as if the couple had briefly attained some connection with eternity itself, understanding the most complex of concepts. Such was the feeling that encapsulated all things.

The sensation of being filled with life-giving fluid – the warmth, the feeling of her beloved's most sensitive organ pulsating inside of her – brought Misaki to tears. Tears of joy. Liquid happiness.

The couple's embrace only strengthened as Touma exited from his beloved.

"I love you, Misaki… I love you so much! I love you! I LOVE YOU! I just want to be with you forever…"

"My heart and soul soar with my love for you, Touma, my prince! I wish only to spend all eternity with you! My world, my sunshine, my _all_!"

And, for the rest of the evening, past the sun's retreat and the rise of the moon to take its vigil, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki eventually wound up under the covers of their conjugal bed, embracing tightly, unconditionally loving, as one.


	6. Story 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! I figured a 'themed' one-shot would fit this month's mood decently enough, given that it is, for all intents and purposes – and in spite of the pandemic – scary finger-puppet ghost month. Hope everyone enjoys reading as much as I enjoyed writing this!

October 31st, 2019.

" _Wha…?"_

An interesting turn of events – one which had begun with a phone conversation – had lead to Hamazura Shiage sitting there on the carpeted floor in the lavish room of his closest friend's charge, Kamijou Index.

With a controller clutched in his hand, a wired device which lead into one among several charging ports on the front of a state-of-the-art, current generation cycle videogame console – one which was connected to an enormous widescreen television, he looked on.

The screen was almost entirely dark. Shiage could see himself in the darkness. His only semi-kempt, dirty blonde hair with his hooded sweater and sweatpants. He never really _did_ dress to impress.

Continually taking in the sights, as they were certainly more interesting than the videogame he had been implored to play, Hamazura Shiage couldn't help but think to himself, as he played.

" _These girls are so spoiled…"_

Indeed; the Kamijous must have thought of the silver-haired nun girl as their child. Kamijou Index had everything a young woman her age could've ever wanted, and more.

As the controller's thumbstick shifted about beneath Shiage's thumb, he turned behind him, to face those who were attempting to stifle their snide snickering, their arms bound over one another's shoulders.

Kamijou Touma and Kamijou Index. The former wore a long-sleeved, navy blue shirt and loose-fitting denims; his normally-spiked hair had been combed down, flattening it and altogether making him seem more mature, perhaps even a bit older. The latter had garbed herself more extravagantly. A lavender-coloured blouse, with dark tights accentuating her slim, curvy figure. The girl's silver hair was tied up into a fluffy bun.

"Yo! What's so funny? What's even the point of this game? You just… Move this dot through a maze."

Their snickering seemed to only intensify.

"Just keep going," Index spoke encouragingly, barely able to contain herself. "It gets better on level three."

"Yeah, that's when the _real_ game starts," Touma responded with a low-pitched chuckle. "This is, uh… This is just the warmup."

The two scheming Kamijous went unchecked in their reign. Kamijou Misaki, the doting and unconditionally-loving wife of Kamijou Touma was working with her researchers for a better part of the day in Academy City's seventh school district. She wasn't present to mediate or restrain.

"Alright…"

Shiage guided his blue-coloured dot along the cyan-coloured maze, towards the bright, almost blood red box intended to serve as the goal. It could hardly be called a 'maze' at all. It was really just a bunch of lines. How had a game like this been published at all? To him, this was akin to something that might've impressed some kids playing on a prehistoric videogame console laden with wood panels whose controller had little more than a joystick and a single, red button.

"Don't touch the walls, man!" Touma exclaimed, as the joystick beneath Shiage's finger nearly slipped. "Game over, man. Game over. You fucked up."

"SHIT!"

Index thrust both her hands over her mouth and suppressed a burst of laughter.

Back to level one. Back _through_ level one. He'd done it again. Pumping his fist in victory, Shiage continued unabated. Back to level two, then, _through_ level two. A 'high score' if there had ever been such a thing. Level three seemed oddly simple; it didn't snake nor spin upon itself, forming a complicated weaving mess of a maze.

Level three.

The corridors were narrow. A single droplet of sweat began to run downwards, along Hamazura Shiage's forehead as he unconsciously licked his lips. This would be his greatest challenge yet.

"Almost… Almost…"

Touma, resting his hands upon his knees, leaned forward and observed his friend's careful maneuvering. The little blue dot he guided moved with surprising grace, commandeered by a tensed, slightly shaky Shiage. He was completely focused on the task before him.

Index's eyelids widened, and the unwavering gaze of her big, curious eyes fell solely upon the television's screen.

The final stretch of level three's 'maze' was no wider than the dot Shiage controlled. His maneuvers were precise. It was as if he was attempting to defuse a bomb, so concentrated solely upon each individual movement that his thumb made was he.

"Come on, man… Shiage, you got this, bro… Easy. Easy…"

The goal was reached. Level three was completed.

The monstrous, room-shaking shriek which followed knocked Hamazura Shiage backwards and sent him scuttling towards the door upon his hands and knees; accompanying the shriek was a grotesque, horrifying face. A visage of death. Its skin was grey, lifeless, covered in pulsating maggots. Enormous chunks of flesh looked to have been ripped from its cheeks, forehead and even its chin. Reddened musculature was visible. This visage lacked eyes, and possessed instead empty sockets filled to their respective brims with wriggling worms. As the scream rang out, the jaws of Death's Head clacked and clattered.

Then, like some passing night terror it was gone. Back to the title screen.

" **G-G-G-GOD DANG IT**!"

There was no holding back any longer; Kamijou Touma and Kamijou Index burst into hysterics. The little silver-haired nun fell back onto the carpeted floor and rolled, kicking violently at the air. Such was her laughter that she couldn't even stand any longer.

"PRANKED!" Touma shouted, pointing down at his friend.

"FILTHY PRANK!" Became Index's battle-cry between her fits of laughter.

Hamazura Shiage quickly found himself joining in on the festivities. As the adrenaline finally began to settle in his bloodstream, his nervous laughter quickly became mirthful and genuine. Shiage clutched his gut, then took a long, deep breath.

"Got me. I know when to take the L."

"Worst, Mikoto's Sister showed us that one," Index explained as she sat upright on the edge of her bed. "She said she was going to try and get Accelerator with it at some point today. That's probably one of the least harmful 'PRANK' ideas she's ever had."

"Doesn't that just figure?" Shiage inquired rhetorically. "She'd have some hand in this. Why not? She's the Prank Queen. Everyone knows it. Everyone who's anyone."

Offering a helping hand, Touma aided Shiage in his flight from the carpeted floor of Index's room. Standing tall and stretching, even as his heart continued to pound quite rapidly, the father of two shrugged his shoulders.

"Yo. This reminds me of that time we took Daichi out to Trick-or-Treat. We thought this zombie statue at the Dianoid was, y'know… A zombie. Not! Actually, a dude in a suit, stood totally still. Jumped outta my own ass. Daichi liked him, though. Little two-year-old kid, mad into it."

"That's the Dai-Majin, no doubt."

Kamijou Touma wasn't certain as to where he'd come up with the name; he'd called the ten-year-old boy that before, when he was only six. Daichi himself had seemed to like it quite a bit, and, subsequently it stuck.

"Me and Misaki tried to take this one Trick-or-Treating last year. She didn't really _feel_ it, I don't think."

Inspired, he looked to Index's bed. Laying on her belly, having apparently ignored all that had happened, a little girl had her face buried in a book. A rather large book. It was, of all the things a little girl could've been reading, an astrophysics textbook.

Her shoulder-length hair was dark-coloured. Her bangs and their fringes dangled in front of her golden, starry eyes. Small in stature, with light-toned skin and a small blotch of a birthmark on her right hand, the little girl only turned away from the book she'd lost herself in to face the gentle giant now kneeling before her. Altogether, she seemed aloof. Her disposition was a quiet, unassuming one.

Softly, the giant kissed her cheek.

The girl's soft, neutral expression lightened as her father's well-muscled hands were then placed upon her cheekbones.

"Wassup. wassup, wassup, wassup? Natsumi? Wassup? Hey, precious angel. Is daddy annoying, yet?"

"No."

A thin little smile tugged at the five-year-old girl's features. Her warm, woolen sweater and snowy white pants soon provided warmth for her enormous father, who took his daughter into his arms, forming around her a tight, comforting embrace. It was one she returned quickly.

"Sorry for interrupting your reading. Daddy and your big sister just wanted to show this big, dumb galoot something funny."

"It's okay, daddy."

He really did wish his daughter would have more to say; but Heaven Canceller's assurances that this was simply her naturally-developing disposition would have to suffice.

"Shiage-san is smart."

" _Five years old and using full honorifics?! What is this kid?! Did these two have some kind of child-genius?!"_

"Honorifics aren't hard, Shiage-san."

She'd read his mind. He needed to try and remember that she could do that. Shiage should've known better; after all, it had been he and his wife, Hamazura Rikou, who had been among the first to learn the truth. That Kamijou Natsumi had the potential to become the most powerful telepath not merely on a planetary scale, but, greater.

Level **six**.

He tried to shake the thought.

Touma kissed his daughter's forehead, then gently set her back down on her adoptive elder sister's bed. He seemed reluctant to break the embrace, and Natsumi shared in that reluctance with him.

"Everything okay, precious angel?"

"Hm-hm."

Her vocalized acknowledge, a wordless response. Sometimes, that was all she needed to offer. It was certainly enough to satisfy the gentle giant who carefully, with tender, loving care, pulled his arms out from beneath his daughter. The little girl quickly returned to her book, becoming enthralled once again.

"Shiage, my man," Touma called out, breaking his fellow level zero's train of thought, "Let's chat somewhere else. The little lady's trying to read."

"Yeah man, sounds lit."

"… Lit?"

"Don'worry 'bout it."

As the two departed, Kamijou Index set herself down by her adoptive sister. Gently running her delicate fingers through the girl's dark-coloured hair – the same colour as her father's own – Index wound up laying next to Natsumi, rolling onto her own stomach in unison with the little girl.

The words that little girl spoke to her, with that emotionless, deadpan expression on her face left Index blushing intensely.

"Hi, cool big sister."

* * *

In the Kamijou Residence's living room – a living room that once had been adult-oriented was now littered with children's toys, including, but not limited to a pink-coloured plastic tricycle – Kamijou Touma and Hamazura Shiage had thrown themselves down on the couch.

"So, bro. Tell me. Tell me about this place that brought you all the way over here. What's up? We kind of got distracted."

"It's nuts. Check it."

Producing his phone, unlocking the device and nearly thrusting it into Touma's face, Shiage pointed with his free hand at the device's screen, blaring its bright, blue light.

"This place. Perfect for Halloween. Huh? _Huh_? Don't you think?"

"… It looks like a shithole. Is that the point?"

"Not such a dense bastard anymore, huh? About time. That IS the point! It's a shithole because it's _designed_ to be a shithole! The Crypt, man, only the most famous haunted attraction in Academy City. The place didn't make enough money when it was actually open, so the owners abandoned it. Started attracting more attention after it was abandoned, and now it's this. The only rule is to not break shit!"

"Shiage. You want me to go with you to some abandoned amusement park? Is that it?"

"Hell yeah, man. Come on. It'll be like old times with that Saten girl. 'Cept we don't have to worry about getting busted this time."

Kamijou Touma gave the matter some though. He recalled fondly that night his old friend brought up; that night when he, Shokuhou Misaki – as she'd been known then – Hamazura Shiage, Takitsubo Rikou – as _she_ had been known then – and that Urban Legend girl Saten Ruiko had thrown caution to the wind, hopped the fencing around an abandoned amusement park in Tokyo… And nearly got arrested a half hour later.

Had it been foolish? Surely. The lot of them had merely lucked out. Dodged the roaming security guard, riding around on his silly little scooter dozens of times over the course of an entire night, and into the earliest hours of the morning.

Looking back with the benefit of hindsight – from the perspective of a grown man, father and husband – and judging harshly wouldn't have been particularly fair to the teenaged Kamijou Touma of the past.

"Well… Natsumi and Index are doing their own little thing tonight. Misaki probably won't be home until later…"

Touma seemed to be going over a mental checklist of various responsibilities within his mind. Shiage couldn't help but chuckle; the man his friend had developed into truly was worth admiring.

Shiage always _had_ admired him. Ever since that night, so long ago, when he'd been put to the task of offing an innocent woman by Academy City's darkest elements. When he was still Skill-Out. When he had been someone else. Before Rikou, before ITEM.

"Sorry, man. I should still be here in case the girls need something. Who knows? Misaki could want to talk when she gets home, too. Hate to be a bummer."

"Nah, Touma, my bro, my man. You ain't a bummer. Real manly of you, manly _energy_. Alpha male type shit! They're always first for you, aren't they?"

The answer posed by Shiage was one that hardly required even a moment's thought. Touma knew the answer as well he knew himself.

"Of course. They're always going to be. Taking care of Index with Misaki prepared the ever-loving stuffing out of me for being a dad, and I'll always love her like my own. But Natsumi? I love her like nothing else. It's different. I don't think I can put it into words. And Misaki? Fuck. I love her so much. She's so many things to me. We just keep getting closer. Now that we're parents, we're just getting even closer, somehow. It's wild."

The Imagine Breaker's Bearer peered down at his own chest.

"If it came between protecting my family and taking a bullet straight to my heart, you can bet I'd be lining up for the firing squad, ready to go."

Shiage's powerful hand gripped his friend's shoulder, and squeezed tightly.

"Girl's lucky to have you for a father, Tou-man. Ten years from now, though… Damn. Her little boyfriends are going to really be in for it. You punched hard fifteen years ago… Probably punch a shitload harder these days. That goes for your woman, too. Misaki's a beast. You two are goals."

Chuckling heartily, Kamijou Touma raised either of his arms, as if in surrender.

"I almost miss that sweet-toothed, snack-loving ojou-sama! Now she's **too** strong! Her power level is almost as high as mine!"

Shiage found himself moved. Perhaps, spending a quiet night with Rikou – even if Daichi _was_ going to be out with his adoptive elder sister, therefore, by technicality, leaving him free to do as he pleased – was all he needed. Not cheap trills.

" _Looks like you did it again. Accelerator's right about you, man. You really are a "goddamn hero."_

" _Swearing is bad and wrong, Shiage-san."_

" _YOU AGAIN?! Stop rootin' around in there, Natsumi-chan!"_

" _Hee-hee."_


	7. Story 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be another 'themed' story, I think. I guess I'm feeling the holiday season. Before you ask: Yes, I do have several small, rubber bats tied to the ceiling above me, and, yes, I am wearing a carved Jack-O-Lantern on my head.

October 31st, 2005.

The darkened, extravagant lobby of the cinema was bathed in glowing, orange light. The enormous promotional statues dotting the lobby – including one which dangled from the curved ceilings, held in place by mighty restrains which wrapped around the fancifully-clothed figure's limbs – had been wrapped in tinsel coloured black as night. Faux webbing, intended to appear as that which could have been spun by some enormous, hulking arachnid also covered these statues.

Packed so tightly that it seemed as if it were almost ready to burst, those who had gathered here were present to see one, singular film. A film which evidently proved so popular, so controversial that almost every single theater in the cinema was showing this film, and this film alone, into November, if the scattered posters detailing the cinema's schedule was to be believed.

Standing in one of many queues, awaiting entrance into one of several theaters screening the film was a certain loving couple.

The haunting musical score broadcasted throughout the cinema's lobby, the costumed actors who occasionally wandered about the lobby jumping at queued guests, and the dark, barely-lit atmosphere had caused Shokuhou Misaki, Academy City's fifth-ranked level five esper to cling to the right arm of her boyfriend, Kamijou Touma. His right hand was clutched in the Mental Out girl's own hands. Misaki's fingers had tightly locked with her boyfriend's own. Protectively, the spikey-haired boy's available arm was wrapped tightly around his girlfriend's waist.

The queue moved another step forward.

Tokiwadai's now-former Queen was dressed to impress. With an unbuttoned, brown sweater covering her arms and draped over her shoulder, she wore a tight-fitting, knee-length golden dress which sparkled beneath what light was visible in the theater. Tall, golden-coloured heels adorned her feet.

Kamijou Touma had garbed himself with similar intend to impress. With a dark-coloured suit jacket and matching dress pants, the outfit was completed by proper dress shoes.

Again, the queue moved forward.

"M-My prince…"

"Hey, beautiful girl. What's the matter?"

Looking about, her long, honey-blonde hair tied up into an elegant, glimmering knot, Shokuhou Misaki clung just a bit more tightly to her beloved.

"I must admit, I-I a-am rather… I-Intimidated…"

"By the movie?"

"Y-Yes… A-Advertised as _the_ most terrifying film ever put to print, b-banned in almost fifty countries… Truly, just what are we getting ourselves into?"

There was a smug, shit-earing grin that formed upon that boy's face, then.

"Trouble. C'mon, beautiful. I'll be right here. Besides, this is my chance to finally be the comforter, instead of the comfortee. Is that a word? "Comfortee"? You get what I mean. Right?"

Despite herself, the starry-eyed Mental Out girl giggled aloud. Either her cheeks suddenly became just a bit redder, as a blush formed upon them, blood rushing with considerable intensity into her face.

"My prince… My Touma. You are such a gentleman." With her heels on, Misaki was nearly as tall as her boyfriend. Gently, she placed a kiss to Touma's lips, closing her eyes and falling into tranquility as she felt him kiss her back. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

The theater doors must have opened, and cleaning must have been completed in the theater; the queue suddenly began to move quite swiftly.

Before long, all were swallowed by the theater's gaping maw. Leaving the quasi-brightened lobby of the cinema behind, the entire queue was in darkness. Darkness just barely lit by the presence of beaming light fixtures built into both sets of stairs which lead to the theater's highest pinnacle, its row of seats farthest back.

That same, dreadful, haunting music was playing even here. It sent a shudder down Shokuhou Misaki's spine; feeling her body shiver, Kamijou Touma patted his girlfriend's waist and placed an affectionate kiss to the forehead which was obscured by her honey-blonde hair's curled fringe.

The perfume Misaki had applied was intoxicating. Its scent was sweet, addicting. Every second that it flowed into his nostrils, Touma was driven closer and closer to the edge of madness. How could this one girl do _this_ to him, with _just_ her perfume?

Guiding his girlfriend at his side as they ascended one of two staircases, lit by their light fixtures which beamed golden-white light to the sloping ceiling above, the couple settled into the seats they'd selected when they'd pre-ordered their tickets nearly a month earlier. Two that were alone, off to the side; yet, both Touma and Misaki could easily see the entire, massive screen without issue.

It was perfect. It was exactly what they desired, and, for good reason. In the darkness of this theater, Touma could provide his beloved girlfriend with a distraction from her concerns, no matter how simplistic they might have been in nature.

Resting his hand upon her partially-exposed thigh, Touma leaned inward. His gaze and that of Misaki's locked. The honey-blonde girl smiled at him, then pecked him gently on his lips.

"Misaki? Can I kiss your neck?"

"You need not ask, my prince. Come, do as you will."

Baring her neck's side by tossing locks of her flowing, sumptuous hair away, the blushing Mental Out girl took a long, deep breath when her most beloved lover's lips made contact. Warm, soft, each individual kiss was like a little taste of heaven for her. Misaki shuddered unconsciously as the themed music ceased, only to be replaced by booming advertisements upon the theater's screen which would precede the actual showing for some time, she was certain.

There was certainly time for a bit of fun, wasn't there?

Wrapping her arms around her boyfriend's shoulders, Misaki brought Touma closer, petting his back gently as he had his way with her exposed neck.

"Touma, please don't leave hickeys. Gentle, gentle…There, there. Good boy."

"Sorry, really sorry. Got carried away. Should I stop?"

"Shh. Continue."

Around her waist his arms went, and downward, towards her partially-exposed bosom his lips fell. None could have blamed him. There, in the relative darkness, even surrounded by a packed theater full of fellow filmgoers, there was no shame to be had. The blaring advertisements were far too loud for anyone to even have a chance of hearing the couple.

For some time, he continued as he went, unabated and only encouraged by the beautiful girl he kissed.

Of course, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki were not the only couple present to be taking advantage of this pre-showing time.

"I love you, Misaki," Touma spoke quietly as he pushed his face downward, and kissed his girlfriend's partially-exposed bosom. Gently, lovingly, filled with unending adoration, Misaki's gloved hands patted him.

"Awe! My prince! I love you too, so very much."

Returning to the top, he kissed her jawline, before slowly beginning to run the tip of his tongue along Misaki's still-exposed neck. Jolting, moaning timidly under her breath, Misaki grabbed Touma's shoulders with considerable force, and clung to him.

"W-When you lick me, the way you do… It is like you are staking a claim. It arouses me so. Stake your claim before all, then, precious boyfriend of mine. I am… Yours… And you are… _Mine_!"

"You're mine," the spikey-haired boy kissed, grabbing either of his lover's breasts in his hands with considerable excitement. Gently, encouragingly, Misaki pulled his hands away, before entangling his fingers between her own.

"Ah, ah, ah. No groping in public. Contain that excitement, my prince, for after our dinner date tonight… You will _need_ it."

"S-Sorry… Really having a hard time controlling myself tonight."

"Shh. No apologies, okay? You need not. I understand all that you feel."

The two lovebirds had already killed considerable time, it seemed; the advertisements were over, and trailers had begun to play upon the colossal screen. Briefly, the couple paid attention, though remained tightly bound in one another's arms. On occasion, Touma turned to Misaki and kissed her cheek; the Mental Out girl's blush intensified with each peck, and her embrace upon her beloved tightened.

"Holy… Shit. That's right. Vindicators: Infinity Struggle is coming out in the new year! FINALLY! THANATOS ACTUALLY GETS SCREEN TIME! SUCH FORTUNE!"

As Kamijou Touma fanboyed – along with a vast majority of others, the majority male – Shokuhou Misaki merely giggled and patted her boyfriend's head, as if he were something pitiable.

"Boys and their hero movies… Even you, my prince, are not immune."

"No WAY! I love this shlock!"

"And I am so glad for it. To see you happy, as you are, is my one truest wish, my Touma."

Several trailers which interested Misaki in particular were presented. Science-fiction, primarily. Though Academy City was the 'City of Science', a brilliant, creative mind could still conjure ideas which even this City hadn't made reality.

**Finally.**

The theater darkened; even the light fixtures built into the theater's staircases dimmed, providing sight to those who might ascend or descend, but no longer obstructing the viewing experience.

" _Begotten_."

The title screen was simplistic. It looked as if it had been slapped together by a small child playing with construction paper, having cut letters out and dropped them into some endless, dark void.

All things flowed as they often would in a film like this.

Save for the gratuitous gore. Both Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki quickly came to understand why this film had garnered such vicious opposition and attained such controversy. The film's antagonist, a violent, paranoid schizophrenic had donned a homemade mask in the likeness of Jesus Christ, referred to himself as 'the Redeemer' and slaughtered those who 'sinned'. Of course, 'sins', in this character's twisted mind could have been anything from not stopping and bowing before a church, or engaging in sexual intercourse out of wedlock.

Academy City, a City of Science free of faith, inhabited by a vast majority of atheists, was about the one place on Earth a film such as this could even _be_ widely released.

The first jump scare had come. A disposable female character had wandered through her home after the power had inexplicably been cut. From the darkness, the Redeemer had leapt with a hatchet, straight towards the camera.

" **KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**!"

Instantly, Shokuhou Misaki's arms were around her boyfriend's own. She buried her face in his shoulder and squirmed uncomfortably.

The axe went in, splitting the unfortunate minor character's head in half, such was the strength behind the blow. Unrealistically, geysers of blood spurted from the wound in both directions as clumps of grey matter were scattered in all directions.

"Swear to the Lord, thy Father!" The Redeemer had cried aloud before kicking his convulsing victim to the ground, working the head of his blood-caked axe into her neck, and pushing with considerable force. Without a soundtrack to play in the background, there was only the sounds of flesh parting and muscle tearing, as colossal geysers of blood sprayed onto the Redeemer, clad in his dark blue jumpsuit.

"T-Tell me when it is over…" Misaki whimpered. Gently, Touma kissed the honey-blonde girl on the top of her head.

"I will. Here, I gotcha. Arms? Around. Beautiful Misaki? Cuddled. We're all set to go."

"S-Silly b-boyfriend of mine…"

Holding Misaki close, feeling her warmth and repeatedly kissing her, Touma watched on.

The Redeemer was finished with his victim. He'd hacked through her neck. Taking his head into his hands as he dropped his axe, the Redeemer peered through his crude mask, down at his gruesome prize. The severed head's expression was trapped in a permanent state of terrified shock.

In the end, the moment passed; the scene returned to the film's main characters, who were attempting to uncover the identity of the mass murderer plaguing their small, American town.

"It's over, beautiful. You can look."

"O-Oh… Thank goodness…"

Peering up, Misaki sighed in relief. Her golden-coloured, starry eyes were opened once more. At the sight of them, Touma found himself blushing.

"Look at you, blushing for me, my prince. Aweee. You are simply so adorable. I love you so."

"Hey, I love you too, beautiful girl. C'mere, just a bit closer. There. That's prime cuddling. This Kamijou-san, a master of the art, knows his way around you, let it be known."

"A master for certain, without a single doubt. The greatest there is, my prince. That is what you are~."

By the time the film's climax had come, with the main characters, aided by a retired cop, had finally come upon their foe in an abandoned warehouse. The Redeemer stood his ground, axe in hand.

Though he was repeatedly shot in the chest, he did not stop. He continued forward. Riddled with bullets, shot again, and again by the retired cop character, the villain seemed unstoppable. Unrelenting. Less a man and more a tortured machine.

Misaki shied from the violence again – despite having paid to witness it in all its grim, hideous glory – and hid her face in Touma's shoulder. The spikey-haired boy couldn't help but smirk. She was a silly thing. She had faced down **real** monsters with him. Academy City's number one strongest esper, the Accelerator. Acqua of the Back. Fiamma of the Right. Anna Sprengel. Shokuhou Misaki had never shied from them, not for a moment.

Yet, from this actor, this made-up _thing_ , she reeled like a terrified child.

" _Crazy girl. But you're_ _ **my**_ _crazy girl, aren't you? Yep. My Queen. My beautiful Queen."_

Finally, the Redeemer was brought low. He was physically overpowered by the main cast, and, with his own axe, had his head severed from his body.

"I go to the Father in Heaven, and await Judgment Day!" Had been the defining cry of his death throes.

"Misaki, it's over. You can look now!"

"I-Is it?! O-Oh, thank goodness…"

Then, as the camera's focused zoomed on the Redeemer's severed head, his face unmasked for all to see…

His eyelids split open, and a sharp, sudden scare cord rang out, shaking the theater and all of the filmgoers within it.

" **KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**!"

"Woah, relax, beautiful! It's just a movie! Relax! C'mere. Alright, alright… Relaaaax."

Ultimately, after clearing out of the theater, then the cinema proper, and into an expansive, fully-occupied parking lot of Academy City's sixth school district, Shokuhou Misaki _still_ clung to her boyfriend's arm as they walked together. His other, free arm, as always, found itself protectively embracing his girlfriend's curvy, perfect waist.

Looking to her, Touma sparked up a conversation to break the silence.

"So? What did you think? Spooky enough for you?"

"Plenty, my prince. Plenty. I really have always been terrible with this sort of entertainment. Still… The effort was worth it, so long as you enjoyed the film you so wished to see, my most beloved, dearest Touma."

On near-equal footing with her boyfriend, Misaki placed a warm, affectionate kiss to his lips.

"And now… You are _mine_ , Touma. For the rest of the night…"


	8. Story 8

July 19th, 2008.

Even with the presence of Shokuhou Misaki, his ever-adoring, unconditionally-loving girlfriend around him, warming his heart with her positivity, there were just some events which inspired Kamijou Touma, the spikey-haired bearer of the anomalous, unfathomable 'Imagine Breaker' to think to himself, _"such misfortune."_

The global near-catastrophe that was recognized by those who knew of it as 'Angel Fall' had been one of those events. It _should have_ been a perfect opportunity to introduce the girl he loved and adored so much to his parents, even if he and the starry-eyed Mental Out girl had been little more than "best friends" at the time. It _could have_ been a perfect opportunity.

The fates must have held different ideas. They were both cruel and kind in equal measure, at least within Kamijou's mind.

Of course, he had no idea. He had no concept of the unthinkable tragedy he and Shokuhou Misaki had been spared in this reality.

At the very least, the fates seemed to have shown a modicum of mercy this time. Thus far, no cataclysms had come, no deranged magicians sought to kill him, or capture Index, or engage in some other nefarious plot inspired by whatever convictions they might have held.

This modest home in Japan's Kanagawa Prefecture was not the first for Kamijou Touya and his wife, Shiina. Misfortune pursued even them, it seemed. Still, 'first' or not, it was a model home, as humble as it was impressive. With its three floors – ground, second, and a furnished basement – the ground floor's exterior was laden with light-coloured cobblestone, surrounded by an elegant, well-tended garden which encompassed the home's small, but homey front lawn. A single, large, rectangular window offered a view into the immediately visible den, like a portal from one world into another. The second floor's exterior was built from ornately-carved marble, and, its many smaller windows had their curtains shuttered. A curving roof whose thick, metallic shingles gleamed beneath the sun's golden-white rays topped this humble little home, quite literally.

Though one among many in this cramped little Japanese neighborhood, it was unique onto itself.

On the little path that wound through the garden, leading up the to the entranceway door – a door luxuriously decorated with not one, but several artificial wreathes – those who would one day go onto form a new generation of Kamijous walked, arm in arm, ever-loving as always.

Adorned in a pink, soft cardigan overlaying a frilled white sundress which just barely covered her thighs, exposing her long, perfect, elegant legs, Shokuhou Misaki's honey-blonde hair, which she wore down was gently buffeted by the warm summer's breeze. Golden-coloured sandals matched the colour of her flowing, sumptuous locks.

Her golden, starry eyes looked to her boyfriend, and hardly for the first time that day. With a single glance she was smitten all over again; her cheeks burst into a reddened blush at the sight of him.

So, infinitely handsome. His dark, spikey hair looked awfully fluffy, fresh and proper. A white, hooded summer jacket garbed his upper body, with one of his short-sleeved orange shirts – a 'Kamijou-san Staple' – beneath it, accentuated by red-white trainers. Blue denims clung to his lower body, held aloft by a tight-fitting belt.

He stumbled, slightly; as per the usual, Touma had insisted on carrying all of their luggage himself. Two suitcases and a duffel bag. He hauled the suitcases behind him, and marched on with the bag dangling from his shoulders by its reinforced handling strap.

"I will take one of those, now, my prince."

"Misaki, I'm totally fi—"

"Shh."

Quickly snatching up one of the suitcases, Misaki provided her boyfriend with a swift, but passionate kiss to his lips, and a gentle tap of her finger to the tip of his nose.

"Accepting help from others, hm~? It starts with the little things. I know it to be a difficult habit for you to break, so, I will _go easy_ on you~."

He chuckled; if he could've, Touma would've scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. She knew him better than he knew himself, didn't she? As always, Shokuhou Misaki was right. He was doing it again.

"How do you even still have patience for me, beautiful?"

"Because my love for you, like my patience for you, is unending and unquantifiable. I love you for who you are, and I always will. Because you are Kamijou Touma."

"I really, _really_ love you too, Misaki. So much… Just like **I** always will. Say, how about another kiss for this lowly Kamijou-san? That last one felt pretty good. Almost as good as…"

The kiss he'd requested silenced him promptly. Misaki's soft, gentle hand held one side of his stubbled face, while her equally soft, perfect lips pressed tightly to the other.

"There will be time for that. Besides, I'd believed I'd hand-milked you quite dry before we'd caught our short flight, precious boyfriend of mine. Have your fluids already reconstituted?"

Her seductive pillow talk wasn't helping Kamijou, the sexual tyrannosaur that he was, get his mind out of the gutter; in fact, it only caused him to sink deeper.

Still, this was his parents' home. Moreover, his younger cousin, Tatsugami Otohime was going to be present at some point. He couldn't possibly conduct himself in such a manner.

"Head's in the gutter. Sorry, beautiful. It's just… That _dress_. All I can see is those legs, and…"

"So, your little fetish is acting up, hm~? What a conundrum indeed, my prince. What a conundrum, indeed… I do suppose further hand-milking will be necessary, then."

She smiled up at him as they finally approached the elegantly-decorated doorstep.

"But, you needn't apologize, Touma. Please don't feel that you have to. Speak freely with me, even if you must whisper into my ear. Please, never feel as if you must censor yourself, or that you might say the 'wrong thing'. There is no 'wrong' here, in our love."

"Course… I never forgot that, Misaki. I love you so much. I appreciate every little thing you do so much… I _love_ spending time with you like this. Seriously. I can't get enough of just… Being here with you, like this."

Quietly swooning as she enwrapped her boyfriend's arm in her own, Misaki used her other, free hand to press down upon the little white button nearby the Kamijous' entranceway door. From within the home, both she and Touma could hear a soft melody beginning to play.

"Waiting time," Touma spoke as he kissed the top of his girlfriend's honey-blonde head, taking an extra moment to deeply appreciate the addicting, mind-addling scent of her perfume. "It's been way too long, hasn't it?"

"I deeply concur, my beloved."

In hardly any time at all, the entranceway door was swung open with considerable enthusiasm, leading into an ornately-decorated, humble little entranceway. Its hardwood floors and stonework walls evoked feelings of a cottage, out in the middle of nowhere.

There she stood, at the pinnacle of her joy; finally reunited with her son and the girl she knew she would one day call 'daughter-in-law', Kamijou Shiina wordlessly announced her happiness. Despite the prim and proper, ladylike veneer of harmonic neutrality she'd often manifest, the 'ojou-sama' tilted her head, smiling wide, tears of joy running down her cheeks.

As only a mother could have, Shiina opened her arms, and embraced tightly, lovingly, both her son and the girl he adored so much. It was an embrace which was swiftly returned by both Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki.

"I truly don't know what to say first," Shiina admitted somewhat sheepishly, sniffling quietly, her gaze moving between both her only son, her dearest of loves, the boy who had always made her so deeply proud to call herself a mother, and the beautiful, golden-hearted young woman who had always stood at his side. "Touma… You've grown so much. You're going to be towering over me, soon! I still remember when I could wrap you in swaddling cloths and rock you to sleep in my arms."

"H-Hey, mom. It's really great to see you."

Gently patting the starry-eyed girl with her flowing, honey-blonde hair on her cheeks, Kamijou Shiina smiled with such overflowing warmth, Shokuhou Misaki nearly found herself overwhelmed by its sheer strength, and the welcoming, unconditionally-loving positivity it radiated.

"Misaki-chan, dearest, you are positively stunning. Breathtaking. It's so wonderful to meet with you again."

The Mental Out girl found herself blushing intensely. Taking her boyfriend's hand into her own, their fingers interlocking almost immediately, Misaki could barely form a coherent thought.

" _Touma's family… I_ _ **am**_ _good enough, aren't I? It was foolish of me to worry at all…"_

Steadying herself, the honey-blonde beauty finally found the words to respond with.

"As are you, Okaasan. Your beauty never fades."

Perhaps it could have been seen as odd that Shokuhou Misaki would address her boyfriend's mother with such familial honorifics; but those who knew her circumstances would have come to quickly understand. Truthfully, Kamijou Shiina was the closest to a mother figure she even _had_.

She truly was a beautiful woman. Though short in stature, Kamijou Shiina was a glimmering beacon of lively warmth nonetheless. Exceedingly young-looking, her long, elegant brown hair with its naturally-curled tips seemed akin to the softest of fleeces, speaking in terms of texture. A long, silvery-white dress she wore upon her curvy, hourglass figure, with a long-sleeved, reddish-pink sweater atop it. Her teary eyes' colouration matched that of her hair.

Before long, Kamijou Shiina found herself joined by the family patriarch, Kamijou Touya. Fondly, the middle-aged man, with his aged, straight-lined face smiled a genuine, warm smile. His own stubbled face was similar to that of his son's own, and his dark-coloured, slicked-back hair shared colouration with his son's, as well. His own build might have been similar to that of his son's, too; if son hadn't excessively outweighed father in sheer muscle mass. Garbed in a light-coloured, short-sleeved shirt with its collar properly set in place and tight-fitting, beige khakis, he simply looked the part of a father.

The embrace he quickly took his son into was one that he'd longed for. Feeling his strengthened offspring's own thick, muscled arms reciprocating, Touya patted the young man on his back with some force; not nearly enough to force any sort of physical reaction.

"There's my boy."

"Oi, oi, old man. Good to see you," Touma remarked, chuckling. He returned his father's forceful pat, then broke the embrace. A manly exchange of love between men. That's how Shokuhou Misaki viewed the rather muted act, at least.

He turned then to his son's girlfriend, and seemed to inspect her, for a moment. The honey-blonde girl blushed beneath his gaze. They had only met several times in the past; would Touya approve? Had she dressed too little? Was something wrong with her hair? Perhaps she should've worn more makeup.

"You certainly weren't switched at birth, Touma," the eldered Touya spoke, clutching his chin between his index finger and thumb, thoughtfully. "You've got your father's eye for women."

Despite herself, Misaki broke out into laughter; partially inspired by nervousness, partially by a sense of genuine mirth brought about by the stunningly blunt commentary.

"OI! Come on, you old bastard. Don't your eyes have somewhere else to go?!" Kamijou Touma couldn't even be offended; he knew well enough that the old geezer was playing, and nothing more. Moreover, Misaki didn't appear to have taken any offense whatsoever; to that end, why should he?

Touya extended his hand professionally, as he might've done while conducting business.

"A pleasure as always, Misaki-chan. Smooth sailing?"

What could she really say? Was there ever _not_ smooth sailing in the loving, respecting, unconditionally-adoring relationship she held with this man's son?

"… Always, Otousan. My life with Touma is Heaven. I could never dream of living with another man. He is _everything_ a woman could ever want, and I am so very lucky to share my life with him. Thank you, for gifting the world – and myself – with this boy."

Turning to her boyfriend, Misaki took Touma into her arms, and kissed him with such passion that both Shiina and Touya found themselves taken aback, however briefly.

Kamijou Touma couldn't have possibly looked any happier; his girlfriend's words had struck a deep cord with him. Hearing her say such things about him, it caused his heart to fill with warmth. It caused his chest to flutter, as if so many little winged insects were flying about within him.

"M-Misaki…"

"All I have said was truth, absolute truth, my prince. I adore every second I spend in your company."

Kamijou Shiina and her husband shared a glance, and a warm, nostalgic smile. Silently, they shared a thought without the use of any esper abilities whatsoever; they were reminded of their own past, their own relationship. History, indeed, did seem to have a strange way of repeating itself.

"Well, there's little use in standing about here all day long!" Shiina announced, quickly trekking behind her son and his girlfriend, gently hurrying them along with a chuckling Touya not at all far behind. "I've prepared tea in the kitchen for you and I, my lovely little Misaki-chan, and, for our boys, there's plenty of soda."

Raising her fingers to her lips, Shokuhou Misaki giggled aloud, as she and her boyfriend kicked off their footwear. Kamijou Shiina was truly a spectacle in her own right; as was the home she kept. The ornately-decorated, humble den, with its glimmering hardwood floors and stonework walls – identical to the entranceway's own – was the perfect, splitting image of modern Japanese life, at least for an older, married couple like Shiina and Touya. The vast technological advances of Academy City were not present here. Though such did not distract from the den's homey brilliance. The television sat upon an oaken wall-unit, not mounted to the wall. Perhaps twenty to thirty inches, not sixty to seventy, as was the standard in Academy City.

A small, open doorway without a door lead into the small, but comforting little kitchen. With its white-tiled floors and smoothed, beige walls, the appliances here were much unlike those in Academy City. Basic in function and design, it was easy for both Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma alike to forget just how far ahead the 'City of Science' was when compared to the world outside its towering walls.

The welcoming, ornate oaken dining table, complete with matching chairs, had been immaculately prepared. An elegant dining cloth had been cast over its surfaces, and, as Shiina had promised, a small, metallic tray in the center of the table held a teapot from which small plumes of steam emerged. Two small cups upon which floral designs were printed sat nearby; as did a tall bottle of soda and two plastic cups, both red in colouration.

Touma was the first to claim a seat. With a sigh of relief, leaving the baggage to be lugged about by his father for a chance – a rare act of selfishness for one such as himself – the spikey-haired boy stretched, and groaned pleasurably.

Shokuhou Misaki politely bowed, taking a seat next to her boyfriend as she quickly clutched his hand in her own. The two exchanged swift, repeated, passionate kisses before settling in.

While Shiina sat across from the young couple, she noticed her son push his chair just a _tad_ closer to his girlfriend's own. Their shoulders pressing against one another, Touma rested his head gently between Misaki's neck and shoulder, allowing his eyes to close as he did. His expression said thousands of words that Touma himself didn't need to speak; he was in utter bliss, being close to his most beloved like this.

Provided with a soft, adoring kiss by her, Touma only relaxed further as, with her free hand, she began to softly, lovingly, stroke his cheek. Misaki's delicate fingertips darted across his skin, each 'dancing' with the skillful elegance of a ballet starlet.

"This Kamijou-san could go for this more often, beautiful… So… Relaxing…"

"You merely need ask, my prince. My poor, tired Touma. Rest yourself." Turning to Kamijou Shiina, Misaki tilted her head to the side and smiled, somewhat awkwardly. "My poor boyfriend didn't sleep so well last night. I believe his excitement and anticipation for today's gathering got the better of him."

"Ah, Misaki-chan, my dear," Shiina spoke softly, as not to disturb her son from the tranquil bliss his ever-adoring lover provided onto him, "I worry not. I know my son is in only the best of hands. Now, you ought to show me how your Penance Stare is progressing."

" _The Penance Stare. Okaasan's mightiest weapon… A weapon I will surely master."_

From one split second and into another, Shokuhou Misaki's expression suddenly took a darkened, sharp turn from the peaceful, blissful expression she'd only just worn. Her brow furrowed. Her honey-blonde eyebrows sank low, and her delicate lips curled downward into a vicious scowl. Misaki's golden, starry eyes glimmered.

She imagined so many other women in front of her. That disgusting, loose 'Lessar'. That Necessarius Saint, Kanzaki Kaori. Agnese Sanctis. Even Misaka Mikoto, Academy City's third-ranked level five esper. The gently, loving strokes of her fingertips upon her boyfriend's cheek never strengthened. In her interactions with him, Misaki remained as tranquil as ever.

"D-Dear… T-That is quite enough. You've more than proven yourself. I… I must say, I believe you have mastered the Penance Stare. There is no more I can teach you."

Kamijou Shiina briefly wondered if her son's girlfriend experienced what she, herself had experienced – and still experienced – in her life with her husband, Touya. The constant defensive battles. The constant battering away of aggressive would-be brides.

"Okaasan! P-Please forgive me! I hardly meant to upset. I have learned from the best there is. P-Perhaps too well…"

All was apparently little more than water under the proverbial bridge. Shiina merely smiled mirthfully as she poured piping hot tea for both herself and Misaki.

"So, Misaki-chan, dear? How has life in Academy City been?"

Kamijou Touma had fallen asleep there, with his head resting on his girlfriend's shoulder; his arms had wrapped around her waist, and, he clung to her tightly in his peaceful slumber. Never ceasing her gentle petting, Shokuhou Misaki placed an unconditionally-adoring kiss to the top of his head, pushing through locks of his dark-coloured, spikey hair.

" _I love you so dearly, my Touma, my prince… My light. My sunshine. My very reason for being."_

Eventually, Misaki _did_ get around to answering.

"Uneventful; which is exactly how Touma and I prefer it."

Kamijou Shiina's laughter was infectious; soon, Misaki found herself laughing along with this kindly older woman. Shiina seemed so full of life, yet, surprisingly tame. Something of a lid was kept over her emotions; only occasionally was it lifted. Not having known Shiina for all that long, Misaki's analysis was an anomalously astute one.

"If I'm being frank," Shiina continued after a graceful sip from her teacup, "I'm surprised that City still stands at all. You _do_ know, Misaki-chan, you're always welcome in our home? If matters in Academy City became too difficult, our door is open."

It was a tempting prospect; Misaki had to admit it. Living peacefully in Japan, outside of that experimental 'City of Science', with all of its grim history seemed like a dream come true. Surely, if both she and Touma worked full-time, they could eventually afford a small apartment of their own, away from it all.

But who would accept her? Kamijou Touma, her ever-doting, unconditionally loving boyfriend could pass as any young man of Japanese descent, being a 'defective' level zero.

But her? She was one of Academy City's public faces. Fifth-ranked level five esper, Shokuhou Misaki.

What would the average outsider think of her? Would she be seen as some sort of monster? A living weapon? Less than human? Like some sort of 'mutant' from the pages of a comic book?

Such were heavy, troubling thoughts; thoughts which found themselves cast aside like so many leaves blown by a wind's gusts, as Kamijou Shiina's words broke the starry-eyed girl from her silent contemplations.

"Personally, I very much love the idea. I've missed my son terribly, my husband as well."

"As would I, were I in your position," Misaki responded thoughtfully. "I could not imagine being away from my only child, knowing they were living within the walls of some… Some futuristic, experimental community of tomorrow. Your son's circumstances may have brought him to Academy City, and I am certain both yourself and Otousan had only the most wholesome of intentions… But, between parent and child, an unbreakable bond exists by nature, does it not? A mother always yearns to hold her child close."

"… Truthfully, were it not for your guiding, stabilizing influence, Misaki-chan, I would have brought my son home many years ago. I remained – and remain – steadfast in my belief, however, that so long as you're present in his life, Touma will always remain safe and sound. Call it a mother's instinct."

The Mental Out girl found herself taken aback by Shiina's words. They were powerful. Potent. Could they have been made physical, her words could've broken through the strongest of obstacles effortlessly. Shokuhou Misaki's heart certainly hadn't provided much of a challenge for them.

"O-Okaasan… You honour me deeply."

She bowed, politely, ensuring the lightly slumbering Kamijou Touma didn't drift far and subsequently smash his head against something – that boy's misfortune was _always_ worth considering, for Misaki knew well enough that it could strike at any moment.

"I solemnly swear, Okaasan, so long as I draw breath, I will _always_ lead your son home safely. The very heart in my chest beats only for him."

"Misaki-chan. Thank you."

The words had not been spoken by Kamijou Shiina, but by her husband, Kamijou Touya. Evidently, he'd finished tending to the luggage.

"You were there with us, at Oowarari Beach, Misaki-chan. You saw with your own eyes what tends to get dragged to Touma. I'd originally thought that being in Academy City would've helped to ease his burdens… As it turns out, I was wrong."

Despite his grim words, a faint smile formed upon the older man's grizzled features.

"But there was at least one good thing that happened for my son in Academy City; you, Misaki-chan."

The father looked to the son; a son who still clung tightly, perhaps just a bit embarrassingly, to his girlfriend, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. His peaceful, contented expression spoke all of the words Touma could have, without requiring him to part his lips even once.

Peering down at the ornate, oaken surface of the table, Shokuhou Misaki couldn't even for a moment longer try to restrain the soft, only quasi-visible tears which formed in the corners of her eyes, as she smiled a wide, brilliant smile, her cheeks reddened beyond compare.

"Otousan… I am so deeply honoured."

Once more, the Mental Out girl bowed her head nearly to the table's surface.

Neither Touya nor Shiina seemed to mind being addressed with such familial honorifics; perhaps her boyfriend had already told his parents about his girlfriend's 'situation'? Misaki couldn't have known for certain, and didn't particularly care. Whatever it was Touma spoke to his parents about was none of her concern. That was a family matter in which she had no place, unless she found herself actively welcomed.

"Your son has had quite the impact on me, as well… To say that he is the best aspect of waking every morning would be something of a colossal understatement, Otousan. I am not proud of the person I once was. I would much prefer to think of 'her' as a completely different person, one separate from my present self. A self your son helped bring to fruition."

"Your use of language is so very eloquent, Misaki-chan," Shiina complimented, pouring both herself and her son's girlfriend more tea, just after she'd filled a plastic cup with soda for her husband. "I could listen to you speak for hours on end."

"Y-You flatter me, O-Okaasan…"

 _This_ was the sort of relationship Misaki had always craved to hold with the woman who'd given her life; but that woman was a wretched coward. A coward who stood by and allowed a monstrous abuser to whip her daughter into a paranoid, moody control freak. A monster who had been more than happy to submit his own daughter to experimentation by Academy City in exchange for financial gain. A monster Shokuhou Misaki did not even wish to think of.

A monster Misaki would never again call 'father'.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself; _not today_. Misaki would _not_ allow herself to be haunted today. That ghastly specter of the man who had helped give her life would have to go and sit in the corner, scheming alone. Today, that specter would receive no attention from her.

As Kamijou Touya settled himself into his seat at the table, next to his wife, Touya's son awoke. He looked about momentarily, not seemingly concerned. He quietly yawned, cupping his mouth in his hand before he, too, settled himself into his own seat.

"Oi… Good afternoon. This Kamijou-san's reboot cycle is complete."

"Welcome back to land of the living, my prince," Misaki giggled. As per the usual, the couple's hands found their way to one another, and, in a moment's time, their fingers interlocked tightly, lovingly.

The four discussed all manner of topics together, existing perfectly in a balanced family unit long into the evening; Shokuhou Misaki had only rarely ever felt so welcomed, so loved, so wanted by anyone beyond her circle of friends, and, of course, her boyfriend. Although Kamijou Shiina had originally planned to cook up an extravagant meal, her nature as a social butterfly made such a thing unfeasible. Ultimately, the quartet decided upon ordering pizza.

It would be some time after much of that which they'd ordered found itself almost entirely consumed. Both Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki knew alike that if the little, silver-haired nun named Index had come along, she could've easily eaten through the entire order – four large pizzas – by herself, and _still_ have room for dessert.

Long after the sun had set upon the Kanagawa Prefecture, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki were lead down into the locale that would serve as their own, personal quarters for their stay with the elder Kamijous; the home's fully-furnished, cozy basement. Accessed from a small staircase leading downward, the basement's fully-carpeted flooring and light-coloured brickwork walls were quite welcoming. A computer was present, most of its necessary components mounted upon an oaken work desk, as well as an L-shaped leather couch, complete with large, fluffy pillows, and a television – smaller than that which was upstairs – settled neatly into its own, pleasant little wall unit; across from that was an entranceway which lead into a small, homey little bathroom, complete with a walk-in shower. Well-lit and warm, this subterranean area brought to mind a rec room much more than a basement.

"There's a sofa inside the couch. Just pull it out," Touya explained, hardly able to restrain the chuckling that was struggling to overtake him and devolve into full, childlike laughter. "And I _do_ mean _pull it out_ , for the love of…"

"OI! _OI_! You old bastard! What are you implying?!"

"I'm implying…"

"That I'm some kind of pervert? Huh?"

"Yep."

Raising her fingers to her lips, Shokuhou Misaki quietly giggled to herself; her boyfriend really was quite easy to rile up. His father seemed to have mastered the art, able to get rise out of his son in mere moments.

At the very least, Misaki knew their interactions were inspired by something of a shared, manly love; it was the sort of gruff, uncensored roughhousing that only two males, father and son, could wind up involved in.

"Well, your luggage is over by the couch, Touma, Misaki-chan. You're welcome to spend more time with us, of course… But I know what it's like to be young and in love. Plenty of youthful energy, and…"

"OI! Time and place! Misaki's RIGHT HERE!"

"A regular prince charming, isn't he?" Touya mockingly inquired, punching his son in the shoulder with a laugh; the blow didn't seem to have phased Touma at all. "I'll leave it to you, then, Romeo."

As Touya departed – closing the door leading down into the basement as he did – Kamijou Touma threw himself down on the couch, leaned back, and produced a long, pleasured sigh.

"This used to be up in the den at the old place, beautiful. You saw the old place… Before it, uh, you know. Went boom. This couch was the best. Still is. I really have no idea why mom and dad moved it down here… Just glad it survived at all."

Joining her boyfriend there, Shokuhou Misaki wrapped her arms around Touma's shoulders, and nestled into him. Receiving a series of loving kisses to the top of her head for her efforts, the Mental Out girl shivered unconsciously, in pleasure.

"It is quite funny, isn't it, my Touma? How seemingly unimportant objects can become important totems of considerable sentimental value."

Unbuttoning those buttons on her cardigan which had been locked into place, Shokuhou Misaki produced from beneath her sundress, a small, cheap little silver-coloured whistle which she wore around her neck like a pendant.

"An unknowing onlooker would assume this to be a mere dinky souvenir, my prince. But to me? There is no price that could be placed on this. I could be offered every single Yen, every single dollar, every single Yuan on Earth and I would not partake in such an exchange."

"You _still_ have that, Misaki…?"

"Of course I do, my most precious, beloved prince. I never intend to part with it. **Never**."

Bringing her boyfriend close, Shokuhou Misaki placed a gentle, loving kiss to Touma's lips. It deepened, became even more passionate. Her hands were in his hair before long, ruffling his dark-coloured locks as Misaki forcefully, but harmlessly pushed Touma to the couch below. Smacking against his own, Misaki's soft, delicious lips acted as a prelude for the entry of her tongue, which invaded Touma's mouth of its own accord.

In only some few moments, Touma's arms were around his beloved; they took her into a tight, warm embrace, one which only grew stronger with each individual kiss, each crossing of the lovers' tongues.

"I love you so, so much, Misaki."

"And I love you too, more than anything, my beloved Touma. My most precious, adored one."

She smiled down at him. Breaking the kiss – but only after another, 'final' kiss to either of his cheeks – Misaki pressed either of her gentle, delicate hands to his chest, and, pushing herself upward with the aid of her considerably-muscled arms, the benefits of a regular, intensive exercise regime made manifest, her smile only grew, widening, as her cheeks' reddening deepened in colouration.

The question which followed was blunt enough to rip a hearty chuckle from the spikey-haired boy.

"Would you like if I drained your testicles out with my mouth? Hm~?"

Attempting to wriggle free, Touma made a great effort to appear frightened – even as his visage repeatedly crumbled beneath the waves of his barely-restrained chuckling.

"Oh NO! An 'accidental pervert moment'! Which tsundere of the week is going to slap this Kamijou-san today? I didn't _mean_ to walk in you! OH NO!"

A giggling Misaki wrapped her arms around her bosom and tossed her head from one side, and then to the other, closing her eyelids shut as she, too, fell victim to her own unrestrained laughter.

"EEK! You pervert! Instead of handling this predicament rationally, I will physically attack you for no good reason. Watch yourself, my prince. Perhaps I will receive character development in another story arc… Perhaps."

Taking one another back into each other's arms, forming a warm, adoring, mutual embrace, their respective gazes locked. Softly, lovingly, the lovebirds stared into one another. Permitted their very souls to connect on a fundamental level.

"I love every moment I spend with you, my prince. Our life together is such fun. Every day, I am always smiling, so long as I am with you… I have never been happier. I can never _be_ happier than when I am with you, my most beloved Touma."

"You're nothing but fun, yourself," Touma responded, pecking his most cherished on her lips. "You're the light of my life, Misaki. Doesn't really matter what we do. It always turns out to be another amazing, memorable time. I guess you just have that effect on me. I'd rather be with you, doing anything, than with anyone else."

Silently, the young, loving couple held one another. Sitting upright, with their arms entangling each other, Kamijou Touma moved several of his girlfriend's golden locks, as if he were handling some ancient, priceless treasure, and began softly, lovingly kissing the side of her neck. Misaki's embrace promptly tightened, while she produced soft, pleasured moans.

"Right there, Touma," the Mental Out girl commented, her voice a soft whisper. "Perfect… Kiss right there… Good boy. That feels so wonderful…"

"I love you, Misaki… I love you; I _love_ you…"

"M-My prince… You've no idea how my heart soars whenever you say those words to me. I love you too, Touma. Innumerable times over… I cherish you!"

It was Kamijou Touma's turn to take charge. With the sort of gentleness a new father might have exercised when handling his child, he lowered Misaki towards the couch, both of his powerful, muscled arms wrapped around her back.

"Y-You are **so** gentle with me… You are **so** loving… My Touma, come to me."

Misaki spread her arms, and smiled up at her lover, eyelids closing shut. Her reddening blush matched Touma's own.

And he _was_ upon her. Carefully, the two worked Misaki's cardigan from her arms and shoulders, ensuring that there was no tugging, pushing or pulling. Carefully, it was soon placed on the back of the couch; in turn, Misaki removed her boyfriend's own jacket, and placed it nearby the cardigan.

Gently, she felt her lover up; beneath his shirt Misaki's hands found themselves, her delicate, silky-smooth palms running along the chiseled surfaces of Touma's chest.

"So muscular… So strong. And all for me."

"I couldn't ever want anyone else. You're everything I want, Misaki. How could I ever want anyone else? You're perfect. You're _perfect_ for me, and I can only really try to be even half as perfect for you. This Kamijou-san has it made."

"Y-You'll m-make me cry… T-Touma… You're so kind to me…"

"You deserve all the kindness in the world, beautiful."

For many hours, the lovebirds quietly embraced each other there; the silence was tranquil. Though they'd eventually come to settle into a movie playing on the television, after pulling the bed out from within the sofa and successfully covering it with its sheets, comforter, and its pillows stored within compartments beneath the sofa itself, an announcement delivered from the staircase leading into the basement caught their respective attentions.

"Touma, dearest~! Your father and I are turning in for the evening! Do behave yourself~! Good night!"

"I'll do my best," Touma responded mirthfully; his girlfriend's embrace tightened as she, too, called out.

"I will ensure Touma is on his best behaviour!"

"Oh, I've nothing but faith in you, Misaki-chan! Good night!"

As soon as the door leading into the basement closed tight, shut with such finality that Misaki nearly felt it in her very bones, she was upon her boyfriend, who welcomed her advances with a tight, loving embrace and a series of kisses placed along her jawline.

"Now, now… Just _how_ will I make you **cum** for me tonight, my prince? Hm~?"

A thought seemed to have struck her, suddenly; breaking away, only after providing her boyfriend with a reassuring, passionate kiss on his lips, Misaki ducked behind the couch and began rooting through their duffel bag.

"Aha! Found you~."

She reappeared, popping up like some sort of beautiful, honey-blonde Jack-In-the-Box, clutching a rather large, square-shaped, plastic-wrapped object in her hands.

Though Touma was unable to immediately make out the individual words, he _did_ see a list of apparent boons provided by whatever was wrapped in that plastic.

"LUSH SHEETS – DISPOSABLE LOVEMAKING TOWELS

LEAK-PROOF

QUICK DRY

ODOR FREE

DISPOSABLE

SUPER SOFT"

Tearing the plastic open with an almost feral strength, panting slightly from sheer anticipation, Shokuhou Misaki quickly took one from the pile – which had fallen to the carpeted flooring behind the couch – and returned to the bed. With swift, feverish movements, driven by the primordial, hormonal desire to pursue sexual activities with her cherished one, Misaki laid the large, square-shaped thing out on the bed.

"On you go, Touma~!"

"You really _do_ think of everything, beautiful."

Kamijou had no reason to disobey; as he clambered onto the surprisingly soft, disposable towel, he found his belt being unbuckled as he waited there, upon his hands and knees.

"Are you comfort with this, Touma? Please, communicate with me. I do not wish to pressure you."

"Yeah, totally fine, beautiful girl. Honestly? I think they both know what we're going to be getting up to. We should be fine. Just in case…"

The comforter was adjusted in such a way that it could easily be thrown over both Kamijou and his girlfriend in a moment's notice; they slid downward, together, as to make such an act all that much easier. Indeed, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki pulled out all the stops. Misfortune would not strike without first meeting its match in the form of meticulous planning.

Then, his shorts were quickly, but gently removed. Followed by his boxers, and, finally, his shirt.

"Would you prefer if I stay clothed? I do know such things work themselves into your little fetish~…"

"Y-Yeah. Please, Misaki?"

"Of course~. Anything to help my precious prince feel _satisfied_."

Before long, she'd positioned herself behind him. Shokuhou Misaki leaned over him from the back, and gently, lovingly, took Touma's erect, throbbing member into either of her hands. Given its size, it fit easily into both, with considerable length – and girth – to spare. Laying the side of her head lovingly against his back, Misaki began her gentle, repeated massaging.

Back, and forth. Back, and forth…

Misaki left one hand to work on its own; with the other, she enwrapped her long, delicate fingers around Touma's large, dangling testicles, and squeezed ever so gently.

"Haaaa…"

His fist repeatedly met the bed; Touma shuddered in pleasure.

"Am I hurting you?! **Touma**! Are you alright?!"

"N-No! Not at all! It's fine, totally fine! S-Sorry, beautiful… That just felt really, really _good_ …"

"Oh! T-Thank goodness… I would never have forgiven myself. Touma, I love you so very much."

"Haaaaa… I love you too, Misaki, so, _so_ much… Holy… Fuck…"

Settling back into her comfort zone with a deep, relieved sigh, Misaki exercised even greater caution. Slowly, with the absolute, utmost tender care, she massaged her boyfriend's pulsating testicles with one hand, while working his throbbing member in the other. Misaki felt it within her hand's grip, as if it had a beating heart of its own.

"Do you enjoy being _milked_ like this~? Hm~? Tell me, please!"

"Y-Y-YES! Yes, m-my Queen!"

" **There** it is… My submissive little prince. Are you my submissive little prince~?"

"Y-Yes, my Queen… I-I'm your submissive… Little… Prince… Haaaa!"

"When you want to cum, just cum~."

For him, sexual intercourse was somehow different from _this_. Though the feeling of his girlfriend's walls clenching tightly and forcibly attempting to extract an orgasm from him was unparalleled, he could, through sheer, raw determination conserve his orgasms for her sake. So his most beloved, cherished Misaki could enjoy such an encounter as he did, on equal terms.

Determination failed Kamijou Touma, here. No matter how much he willed himself to resist, he couldn't. There was nothing he could do. Touma was at his unconditionally-adoring lover's mercy – and he loved it. He couldn't have possibly loved it more.

"M-MISAKI! I **love** you! I love you so MUCH! I'm gonna… _fuck_ … I'm…"

"I love you too, my prince, so deeply. You are the love of my life." Softly, Misaki kissed Touma's back as she milked his cock vigorously. "Cum for me."

"HAAAA!"

"Cum for me, my prince!"

Slamming his fist repeatedly, feverishly into the sofa-bed's mattress, Kamijou Touma finally broke down; unable to hold back for even a moment longer, he released all that he had pent up; throwing his head back and biting down to ensure he didn't roar out in pleasure, _it_ surged forward, onto the disposable towel and splattered there unceremoniously.

"One orgasm was not sufficient to wring you dry last time, was it, my prince? Perhaps I should milk just a _bit_ more semen from your testicles. Would you enjoy that~?"

Unable to speak, Touma merely nodded his head repeatedly, and enthusiastically.

Misaki placed another loving, passionate kiss to his back, just as she readjusted her positioning behind him.

"Please tell me if it starts hurting at all, okay?"

"F-For sure… Fuck… I love you so much."

"Awe! My Touma~. My loving, affectionate, gentle… Perfect boyfriend. I love you too; and I always will! With each day that passes, my love for you grows indefinitely greater."

Ultimately, before he would find himself completely physically satisfied, Shokuhou Misaki would 'milk' Kamijou Touma another six times.

He gripped the sheets with one hand, while punching desperately with the other.

"C-Cumming!"

"That's a good boy~. Cum for me… My, my; there is still so much!"

"I think…"

Touma panted as if he had just finished running a marathon. Barely able to keep himself from slipping downward – onto the soiled, disposable towel, no less – Misaki thought quickly, collected it, crumpled it onto itself, and tossed it nonchalantly into the garbage bin nearby the sofa. It looked akin to a particularly large napkin; nothing more. Inconspicuous.

"I think I'm done, beautiful… Thanks. Seriously. Thanks, so… Much. Wow…"

"Let me help clean you up a bit, my prince."

Rolling her boyfriend onto his back, and ensuring that his head was propped up comfortably beneath several pillows, Misaki wrapped her lips around Touma's member once more; it surged at her touch, returning from its semi-flaccid state to a full, pulsating erection.

The gentle, elegant motions of Misaki's tongue sliding over his exposed head – along with the repeated, passionate kisses she placed upon its exceedingly sensitive glans – was enough to send Touma over the edge yet again. He gripped the sheets beneath him tightly.

"FUCK! I'm gonna… It's… Cumming."

A smiling, blushing Misaki contained every last drop in her mouth with much glee. A stringy mass followed as she rose; with little hesitation, the honey-blonde beauty merely _slurped_ it up. Blushing intensely yet still, the adorable little expression that etched itself upon her face brought Touma to place his hand lovingly upon her head. He stroked her gently, adoringly.

"Aah… Delicious."

"Would you look at that. Not very ladylike, for an ojou-sama like you."

"Oh, _please_. You corrupted me many years ago, my prince."

For some few minutes, a comfortable silence descended over the loving couple. Quietly peering into one another's eyes, the two said nothing; there were no words needed between them.

"Oi, beautiful?"

"Yes, handsome?"

"There's a bathroom down here. Feel like grabbing a shower?"

"Certainly~. I do suppose I ought to brush my teeth now, as well…"

Clinging to one another lovingly, their shared embrace filled with the endless adoration they felt unconditionally for one another, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki went off to freshen themselves and prepare for the rest of their night together.

The lovebirds looked forward to the week that awaited them, together.


	9. Story 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This one is going to be a tad bit darker than what I usually write for this compilation; but I do feel this is an important topic to cover, especially when it's in regards to Touma's character, and how this particular struggle also involves Misaki. To that end, reader discretion is advised.

April 26th, 2006. 1:38 PM.

Like some switch had suddenly been flipped, all changed. The casual, happy air seemed to have become tense and darkened. As if some choking, noxious smog had come to settle, suffocating all life within its grasp. As swiftly as the dark, rumbling clouds heralding a thunderstorm might have arrived on a hot summer's day, _it_ had come.

An invisible enemy, one which could not be fought with force. No amount of punching, thrusting, or heroic monologues could defeat this monstrous foe. This enemy could not be brought low with an explosive, over-the-top shounen-style battle. _It_ was beyond any deranged esper, transcended the power of any sorcerous magician.

Shokuhou Misaki fought her own war against it; a one-girl battle against a foe who simply could not be defeated through conventional means. It did not live. It did not die. It was outside the cycle.

All else, yet, was calm in the Nature Park of Academy City's twenty-one. The grassy hills, ornately-cobbled walkways and winding manmade rivers provided the perfect setting for the promoting of tranquility, peaceful thought, and relaxation.

Yet, these concepts, abstract as they were, had been beaten brutally into submission by their invisible, shapeless, sightless enemy.

Reduced to a withered, shuddering husk sitting upon one of the Nature Park's many reinforced wooden benches with his hands folded into one another, staring unblinkingly at nothing – through reality itself – Kamijou Touma remained unresponsive.

 _It_ had dug its vicious, hooked talons deep into his flesh, tearing through him, piercing his very soul.

Shokuhou Misaki was still trying to understand what had brought this about; she reasoned, then, that perhaps nothing at all had. Perhaps it had simply come of its own will, called into action by some twisted cerebral malfunction, a malfunction brought about directly by those 'Infinite Hells', and whatever unimaginable suffering this young man had faced, alone, within them.

Sometimes... **Sometimes**. Sometimes, Shokuhou Misaki wanted nothing more than to take that one-eyed former Magic God in her hands and rip her apart, piece by piece.

Though she wished for nothing more than to hold her most beloved, cherished one, kiss him, anything – she'd been warned by a certain Heaven Canceller against doing so without receiving explicit permission. The Mental Out girl wracked her brain, trying to recall, exactly, that medical expert's words of advice. So far, none had seemed to have worked.

"Touma," she whispered, her voice violently cracking as she viciously held her own against the emotional breakdown that threatened to drag her, too, into the inky black depths of hopelessness, "You are having an episode. Breathe for me. None of what you are feeling and sensing is _real_! Look, all around. What do you see?"

 **Finally**. She reached him. Nearly a half hour had already passed, and only the first sign of a break arrived. Kamijou Touma fought valiantly in the civil war he waged against himself. Deep within him, he warred viciously, as he'd never fought before. He sought the light of the surface; to breach this suffocating, crushing dread that had brought him low in one fell swoop. His breathing, at last, began to slow; just on the verge of hyperventilation. Two had met as one, level zero and level five, and delivered a glancing blow to _it. It_ reeled back, relinquishing its grip upon Kamijou, ever so slightly. Yet, still, it clung, like the disgusting, rancid parasite that it was.

"Breathe for me, my most precious one. I am right here, right with you. And I always will be. Remember your breathing techniques… There, there… Excellent work. I am _so_ proud of you!"

Though his body remained still and unmoving, Touma's eyes darted about within their sockets. They scanned their environment, transmitting necessary information to his brain. The trees, the sunlight, the cloudless, blue sky above. There were other people, too; none of whom seemed particularly out of the ordinary. They meandered about, doing as they pleased, going about their lives normally.

Well over twenty minutes had passed since this episode had begun, leaving Kamijou Touma an unwalking husk with a blank, empty stare, standing there in the middle of one among the Nature Park's many cobbled walkways, as if he'd been some sort of morbid statue. Only with his girlfriend's aid had he been brought to this bench.

"Touma? I see your eyes moving a mile a minute. Can you please tell me what you see?"

"Trees."

It took every ounce of Shokuhou Misaki's willpower to hold back the sob that sought to escape from her. His voice was pitiable. Weak, dripping with fear. Her boyfriend sounded like a child who'd just awoken, terrified, from a scarring night terror.

" _I cannot stand to see this happening to you, my most beloved prince… I share your pain. I feel your anguish…"_

"G-G… Good. W-What else, Touma? What else do you see? C-C… Can you tell me, please?"

Though she succeeded at fighting it back, Misaki did _not_ succeed in holding back the tears which fled from her eyes, trailed down her cheeks, and dripped, one after another, down into the flowing grass, rustled by the soft breeze.

"Grass. Grass and water. There's a bird up there. Another one, too…"

Kamijou Touma was winning. The wretched parasite was losing its grip, being forced back into its dirty little crevice within his higher mind.

"And you… I see you. I see you, Misaki!"

He tossed himself into his girlfriend's waiting arms as he finally broke free, entirely, knocking the vile thing from his shoulders. _It._ The horrid, unspeakably evil thing. It was not, in fact, nameless at all; its name was 'post-traumatic stress disorder'. Corrosive, hateful, it spent its every waking moment dreaming up new ways to torture the one whom it had attached itself to. This was exactly how Kamijou personified the mental illness that wracked him.

This was how he'd fought it.

By assigning physically defining characteristics to it, by building it into a monster, he could destroy it. Not with a swat of his anomalous right hand and a heroic monologue; but with the sheer power of his own will.

With his face pressed into Misaki's light-coloured sundress, Touma finally permitted his searing, pained eyes to close shut and recover from their ordeal of staring, unblinking, for so long. Even as the tides of trauma receded, the Mental Out girl's movements remained slow, steady, and predictable.

"I am right here! Right **here**! See? You are right here with me, in my arms. Nothing will harm you; nothing _was_ harming you. It was an episode, a flashback. You are okay… There…"

"Misaki…"

His breathing, though slowed considerably when compared to the near-hyperventilation that had occurred only minutes before, remained quickened, in comparison to what should have been a 'normal' rate of breathing.

"Communicate with me. What happened? Did anything at all happen? Can you tell me?"

Touma breathed in, deeply. He held the breath, then released it. As his embrace tightened, his muscled arms wrapping around his girlfriend's waist, Misaki responded in kind; despite her overwhelming desire to hold her suffering lover as close to her as she possibly could, the Mental Out girl reasoned with herself; he needed breathing room.

"There was a bird… Must've picked a worm from the dirt, hungry or something. The worm just… Popped. Right in half. And… It just brought me right back."

"You are so brave to speak so candidly about such things… My most beloved, cherished one. My precious Touma. There, there… See? All is well. There is nothing to be frightened of here."

He nodded, repeatedly and enthusiastically. Touma's entire body violently shuddered as he clung tighter. His dark-coloured, long-sleeved shirt was soaked with sweat. Beads of sweat had already been rolling along his furrowed, paradoxically chilled brow.

"Anything you feel touching you is only me, only my hands. Okay, Touma? It is only me. I promise."

Another nod.

Slowly, gently, Misaki's fingers began to dance along the back of her damaged lover's head. Her fingers' tips, delicate and silky smooth – even without the exceedingly soft gloves she often wore upon her hands – danced there, each like a twirling little ballerina.

Yet another piece of advice from Heaven Canceller suddenly flashed through Misaki's higher mind; it came like a blur and left as one.

"Touma, my love, my light. Do you feel like speaking with me? There is no wrong answer. If you would prefer to remain in silence, then, we will."

"Y-Yeah."

Slowly, reluctantly, his embrace loosened; Kamijou Touma struggled with himself, rising as best as he could into a sitting position; adjusting his body's slouched posture, his bloodshot, dark-coloured eyes locked with his girlfriend's golden, starry orbs.

Moving as slowly as she could, the Mental Out girl ran a single fingertip beneath either of her boyfriend's eyes, dabbing below them gently; the warm moisture which found its way onto her bare fingers a physical reminder of his suffering.

" _Discuss future plans, move away from the present… Of course. It would only be natural."_

Taking her boyfriend's hands into her own, Misaki felt Touma's fingers quickly, desperately interlock with hers. That much, at the very least, was normalcy.

"My prince, where do you think Misaka-san and Shirai-san will drag us next, when we meet this weekend? With someone like Shirai-san involved, there is simply no doubt matters will be most amusing."

That got a bit more of Kamijou Touma out from that traumatized shell; he chuckled, lightly.

"She doesn't ever stop. I'll give her that, beautiful girl."

"… Or, _we_ could drag Misaka-san and Shirai-san around with _us_. A visit to a pretentious, snobbish art museum ought to dampen their spirits, a bit."

Resting his forehead in his hand's palm, Touma chuckled. It was a genuinely mirthful expression. His lips spread, his cheeks rose, and, despite the pain he still experienced, Touma chuckled.

Ensuring that her movements were slow and predictable, as not to shock or otherwise disturb her yet-pained lover, Misaki raised an arm and mimed the act of holding a teacup, her hand's little finger held upwards. With a snooty expression, she continued her miming, raising the invisible 'teacup' to her lips and sipping from nothing.

"Hmm. Yes, this film – dare I refer to it as such – is… What is there to say? It is, simply, rubbish. Hmm, yes. Zero out of ten. Simply repulsive. Hmm. Yes."

Having spoken with a deeply flawed accent, one that'd made a noble effort to mock the stereotype of an English aristocrat, Misaki repeatedly sipped from the invisible teacup and remarked "Hmm, yes," in an increasingly mocking tone.

It was enough to bring true, mirthful, potent laughter from Kamijou Touma.

"So _that's_ what you got up to in Tokiwadai, huh, beautiful?"

"Yes. What else?"

Quietly, Touma sighed; exasperation was evident within it. An unconscious act, it, regardless, seemed to weigh on him.

"I'm sor—"

"You needn't apologize, Touma. This is _not_ your fault, my love, my sunshine. None of this is your fault. You _never_ asked for any of this. Please, do not _ever_ think that you need apologize, or hide yourself, or suffer in silence. No matter what, no matter when, you may _always_ turn to me in your time of need!"

Kamijou Touma didn't quite know what to say; and so, he remained silent. He didn't speak a word. Instead, his fingers, enwrapped with Misaki's own, tightened further. As if to respond wordlessly, Misaki responded in kind.

"I love you, Misaki… I love you more than anything. I _love_ you! Misaki… I just want to be with you, like this."

"And I love you, Touma. I will always be here, at your side, my cherished prince. No matter what may come to pass, I will always be here. _Always._ We will face all struggles together."

As he stared into his girlfriend's golden, starry eyes, something rose deep with him. A sense of rising hope. A sense that, with all of the quick-acting suffering that had come and gone, it really _was_ going to be okay.

Somehow, his mind was able to comprehend something that it shouldn't have. Even that which brought an end to the machinations of 'Magic God Othinus' as she'd been known then, with her 'omnipotence' bestowed upon her by that dread lance, 'Gungnir', had expressed its shock.

Its words, spoken softly, gently, in countless languages at once, had both soothed and healed. It had stood upright like a man, yet, that was where the similarities had ended. Having resembled some abstract shape cut from space itself into the crude shape of a man, it had spoken the words many times over, in so many tongues, that put the spikey-haired boy's mind at peace.

" _Cosmic adjudication is at hand, One-Eyed Odin. All shall be as it was before your senseless declaration. So speaks Eternity."_

Kamijou Touma couldn't have possibly wrapped his head around it, nor could Shokuhou Misaki have if she'd seen what he'd seen, in those warped Phases; the Imagine Breaker's Bearer had, in fact, looked upon the visage of all time and space made manifest. A cosmic, omniversal constant. Reality itself had risen up in protest against 'Magic God Othinus'.

And that was exactly how Kamijou Touma, despite all of his anguish, could rest with some peace in his heart, knowing that this – all of this – was _not_ simply another among billions of grand illusions.

"You seem deep in thought, my prince. Is all well?"

He hadn't broken eye contact with his girlfriend, had he? Not once.

"All's well as long as you're with me, beautiful."

Clutching one of Misaki's hands in both of his own, Touma raised it to his lips. With the sort of gentleness he would've practiced while handling an infant, he placed a prolonged kiss to the top of the hand he held. Again, and again he kissed it, stroked the side of his face against it.

Shokuhou Misaki couldn't have possibly smiled any wider.

The sounds of school district twenty-one's Nature Park provided a much-needed therapeutic experience for Kamijou Touma; the sounds of children's laughter, of young people speaking to one another, of birds chirping, it formed a symphony for the soul.

Before long, the lovebirds were embraced in one another's arms; though a single cloud happened to pass overhead, it was simply not dark enough to obstruct the sun's warm, comforting rays. Cuddling tightly to one another, Kamijou Touma closed his eyes once more, and found true calm with each gentle, unconditionally-loving, adoring kiss Shokuhou Misaki placed to the top of his head.

It really _was_ all going to be okay.


	10. Story 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to be a bit out there. That's all I'll say. If you're expecting something formulaic and predictable, you might want to move onto the next one-shot.

The rumbling Star of Bethlehem still hung over the skies of Eastern Europe; a vast, disgusting blight. A symptom of a terrible disease. An astral tumour. A sign that, to all, should have heralded the universal truth; God simply did not care. Or simply wasn't present, at all. Something which should have brought the faithful away from their blind, unwavering belief, something which should have turned agnostics to atheists simply out of spite, something which should have given atheists themselves even more reason to take the position which they did, regarding religious considerations.

 _That_ was how Shokuhou Misaki, the Mental Out girl, viewed this situation.

Kamijou Touma, the boy she loved so deeply – the boy she intended to spend all of eternity with, beyond all time and space –, the boy with that anomalous, unquantifiable, unsubduable force held within his right hand, 'Imagine Breaker', faced down the master of all this with her at his side. The one who had pulled so many strings. The one who had, through his machinations and twisted ideology, started World War III.

Fiamma of the Right.

His face was that of a madman. A monster who did not deserve to draw another breath, to walk upon this Earth for even a moment longer. Misaki knew her prince would disagree with her assessment. He would scream and shout about how he could be saved, along with the entire world.

That was simply who Kamijou Touma was; even if he didn't believe it himself. That was part of why Shokuhou Misaki adored and cherished him so. One among so many innumerable reasons.

Fiamma of the Right smirked, from one ear to the other. It was so wide, so sickeningly comical that it appeared as if his entire face might've simply ripped apart at any moment spattering lifeblood in all directions, torn irreparably by the sheer pressure of his toothy, haunting grin.

His shoulder-length, red-coloured hair was rustled by the gusting wind. His odd, red-coloured clothing resembling some sort of ornamented, ceremonial garb hung loose from his frame, and from his back protruded that horrid _thing._ It resembled the misshapen, talon-hooked limb of a bird. It was distorted, bent and twisted. It seemed to be almost in pain as it twitched furiously, surrounded by an aura of pure, crimson red. Like flowing lifeblood.

Just like the lifeblood that flowed from Kamijou Touma's torso, where a right arm had once been.

Shokuhou Misaki couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Her body betrayed her even as her mind screamed out for it to do something, anything. Even if she could simply hold her boyfriend in her arms as they died together. That was all she wanted. That was all the Mental Out girl could've asked for.

"I… Will save the world. You should be honoured, fleshwads!"

He extended his arms outwards; as if he was _mocking_ Jesus Christ upon the Holy Cross. As if, in his mind, Fiamma of the Right was _greater_ than Christ, onto himself. That hideous, malformed limb twitched, seemingly yet in agony. Darkness settled around him, as if the night itself realized how monstrously evil he was, and embraced him as such; a harbinger of the end.

To Shokuhou Misaki, there was nothing more evil than this inhuman abomination that called itself Fiamma of the Right.

"You've safely managed to reap some degree of worth in your lives!"

That monstrous _thing_ protruded from Fiamma of the Right's back lurched, shook and snapped into place; something red was glowing from within. Something akin to a million exploding suns. It seemed to be charging something. Power. A channeled blast.

There was something else, then, in the Mental Out girl's mind in her moment of deepest desperation. It joined with her consciousness; it was familiar.

Every time it had offered, she had turned it down. Even when it had offered her its aid against the Accelerator, Academy City's strongest level five esper, she had rejected it. Even when it had offered its aid against Acqua of the Back, she had denied it.

As tears streamed down her face, like a rushing waterfall, spilling out from her glimmering, golden-coloured starry eyes, she heard it. It hadn't been phased by her repeated rejections; its voice was still as soft as it had ever been, like that of a loving mother.

" _Don't you understand, Misaki Shokuhou? Together, we can be gods."_

" _ **NO**_ _!"_

" _Then we can transcend this place."_

" _ **NO!**_ _"_

" _Or hide together."_

" _ **NOOOOOO!**_ _"_

" _Or, we could become your best self."_

" _ **NO!**_ _"_

" _Or… We can end this. We can end this wretch's accursed existence. We can end God's Right Seat. We can save Touma Kamijou."_

" _ **Yes… Yes… Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! Kill Fiamma of the Right. Kill him. We will… We will kill him. We will ensure he suffers beyond all suffering**_ _!"_

" _Then, let me in."_

Fiamma of the Right, gloating as he was, clenched his own hand's fist; a terrible burst-stream of monstrous overwhelming power, glowing as hot and as red as a million exploding suns, enveloped all things. Like countless thermonuclear detonations, all seemed to erupt, enveloped in destruction.

But, there was a problem.

In every universe, there was a God. There was a God's Right Seat. Therefore, there was, in every universe, a Fiamma of the Right. Fiamma of the Right was not a constant. Merely one among so many innumerable gears, churning, grinding within the machine that was reality. 'God' nor his Archangels were above nor beyond that machine. Perhaps, they were gears which functioned higher up, on a greater level of the machine than Fiamma of the Right; but not beyond it.

Something opposed the Holy Right. Something opposed the Archangel Michael. Something opposed God.

The Holy Right was something beyond the comprehension of most. It was comparable to possessing a 'defeat' button in a turn-based roleplaying game. A press of the button, and all enemies were defeated instantaneously.

That which opposed the Holy Right, then, could be comparable to a developer of the turn-based roleplaying game. Something which could simply patch the 'defeat' button out entirely.

Golden clashed with red. A brilliant cosmic lightshow.

All of those who observed the colossal, glowing, golden lights which surged throughout all of reality – and beyond it, into the very Outerverse, that in which there was nothing, should have been instantaneously struck blind. Yet, they were not. Indeed, all life throughout all realities in every universe, in every multiverse remained with eyes wide open, unafraid and full of wonder as the cosmic radiance which enveloped all caused not an inch of harm to them.

To them.

But Fiamma of the Right tried to turn away; only to learn he could not.

The Holy Right was not violently bent backwards. It did not snap and crack beneath the weight of unthinkable cosmic power. It did not destabilize.

It simply ceased to be. The Likeness of the Archangel Michael ceased to be; and Fiamma, no longer of the Right, was left with nothing.

A grim, bottomless acceptance of his fate weighed upon his shoulders, heavy as two entire planets strapped to his shoulders with the expectation that he hold them aloft forevermore.

The Archangel Gabriel turned in fear and fled; even as the angelic equivalent of a machine, it was filled with existential dread. It returned to Heaven from whence it had been summoned. Gabriel had realized that it was hopelessly outmatched. Even its very own God would have been hopelessly outmatched.

This Force was inevitable.

All that was left were tears upon the face of Fiamma, as a single thought flashed past his higher mind.

" _The Phoenix Force."_

" **I am Fire and Life incarnate!** "

Surging, as the blinding, golden light receded, Fiamma stared upon its avian visage. Enormous, winged, with a hooked beak and glowing, golden yellow orbs for eyes, the Phoenix beat its wings against the air. If the Holy Right and its charged burst-stream were as intense as a million exploding suns, then, the Phoenix was as intense as billions upon innumerable trillions of them.

There was only one Phoenix Force. It existed beyond all time and space, akin to a cosmic abstract, akin to something which simply could not be perceived through the lens of humanity. No matter how far one ascended up along that proverbial totem pole. Even the Magic Gods of 'True Gremlin' knew of humanity, and were once born of it, whether through self-sacrifice or thought. Therefore, even they were so far below the Phoenix Force that they ought not to have existed at all, when compared to its majesty.

Shokuhou Misaki stood tall and proud. The Phoenix emerged from her back, its wings forming her own. A flaming, winged protrusion had burst forth from her chest, marking her with its sigil. Appearing to have been formed from living fire, it intensified as her emotions did.

She was not alone.

The Phoenix, then, was joined by the Dragon.

An enormous, reptilian creature with elongated limbs and clattering, clawed digits. A lashing tail extended far behind it and great, settled wings jutted from its back. An elongated snout protruded outwards, filled with jagged, razor-sharp fangs. Its scaled, hardened shell was sky blue and golden yellow. The Dragon turned to face the Phoenix, then, as it walked on all fours, its limbs spread apart.

Silently, the overwhelming might shared by both Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki, that loving, gentle, unconditionally-adoring young couple who had only ever sought to live together in peace, in harmony – a normal life – spoke for them.

The Dragon bowed its enormous head, as if to silently say, _"You are superior."_

Shokuhou Misaki extended an arm; and the Phoenix extended a clawed lower appendage.

" _Together."_

The Dragon nodded in understanding.

"I… I assimilated your right arm… So… Why do you still have any power?! And YOU! **Fool girl**! You cannot possibly **conceive** of the power you wield! You wield it as if it were a weapon! Relinquish the Phoenix Force at **ONCE**! Before you destroy all things!"

The Dragon snarled aggressively, like a wild animal challenging an intruder who had wandered into its territory. Its maw split open; rather than billowing plumes of smoke that emerged from within, something akin to a series of vicious, jagged rips in the very fabric of space and time did. Each plume glowed a silvery-blue, shuddering and shaking upon themselves, as if rending reality itself. Something inconceivable.

Its gargantuan, scaled jugular bellowed as it breathed its inconceivable, invisible breath down upon Fiamma. Crackling arcs of something unknowable, invisible, surged forth from its hate-filled eyes.

Hate reserved entirely for Fiamma.

" _There's something… There's something invisible…"_

" **Fiamma of the Right. You bear the responsibility of creating this situation with your universal tampering; childish efforts to appease your own overinflated ego. Take this moment, and pray to your God. He will not save you from me. NOTHING WILL! ANY and ALL who would harm** _ **MY PRINCE will**_ **face my celestial wrath! SO SPEAKS THE PHOENIX!** "

The Phoenix Force had spoken; and so it was done. As the Dragon bathed Fiamma in that reality-sundering, whipping, crackling, unknowable substance – as it tore the flesh from his bones, and reduced his bones to less than dust – the Phoenix Force targeted the ethereal aspect of Fiamma.

His very soul.

The 'Magic Side' had not truly believed a 'soul' to be a literal force within the body of a human being. As so many elements of 'Magic' were, the idea was intended to be exactly that; an idea. A metaphor. A concept that could be used to warp and bend the world through the use of Idol Theory.

But, humans never _were_ good at understanding that which was so much greater than themselves.

Fiamma ceased to be; it was as the Phoenix had commanded. Without a body, without blood, without a soul, without a brain to think, there _was_ no Fiamma. Perhaps there never had been. The Phoenix Force, in all of its inconceivable might had begun to inadvertently shift and distort all of time and space.

Was it ending? Was this reality _ending_?

" _ **No**_ _."_

This was the reality where Shokuhou Misaki 'won'.

This was the reality where Shokuhou Misaki was not doomed to grief and anguish beyond measure. This was the reality where 'Deadlock' – who truly did seem insignificant, now, in the grand scheme of things – had failed to take her beloved prince from her.

The Phoenix Force followed Misaki's commands, as if it were a part of her, just another limb. She needed no remote. She needed nothing as small, as pathetically weak as an esper ability to act on a cosmic level.

With the sheer power of her will, and with the Phoenix Force, Shokuhou Misaki repaired all that had been damaged in her astral outburst. All was as it should have been.

But she'd seen them. The Phoenix Force had granted the Mental Out girl sight beyond sight; a glimpse into other, distant realities.

She yet attempted to push outwards; through the Outerverse itself. She sought, with the Phoenix Force, to twist fate in all other realities; to help save those 'other' Shokuhou Misakis. Those other possibilities of herself. Those who had, for the most part, been doomed to suffer alone, forever.

But it could not be so. Quietly, Misaki wept for them, the countless possibilities of herself. And she wept for those 'other' Kamijou Toumas, as well.

The Phoenix, then, outlasted the Dragon; the Dragon faded, sinking back into Kamijou Touma from whence it had come. Masses of scaled, blue and yellow hide returned to human flesh, as if the entire Dragon itself was simply 'stored' inside of him, despite being gargantuan when compared to him.

The Star of Bethlehem had crumbled into the ocean below; the gnashing waves devoured its remnants. In time, the almighty Star of Bethlehem, the specter of death which had loomed over Eastern Europe, the symbol of Fiamma of the Right's almighty power and a living aspect of the price demanded by mankind's greatest atrocity since the previous World War, would soon be reduced to a humble little habitat for aquatic life.

Like some monster asteroid it had struck the Earth, and then was gone.

Kamijou Touma rested, utterly secure in her arms. Shokuhou Misaki held her beloved close, and quietly wept into him; the Phoenix Force lived on, protruding from her back and illuminating the night's darkness as if the sun itself had anomalously risen to challenge the moon's dominance. Colossal, glimmering, golden wings beat against the wind.

"My prince…"

Her voice had returned to its normal, soft, exceedingly gentle tone; gone was the reverberating, reality-shaking vocalizations which hadn't sounded much like a voice at all, but rather, astral conflagration onto itself.

His right hand – somehow, inexplicably, his right arm had returned to its socket, as if it had never been severed at all – made its way to his girlfriend's face. His shaking fingers gently caressed her features. Touma smiled, weakly, even as he looked to be on the verge of losing consciousness. With a gentle touch, the sort of touch one might've placed upon the tender skin of an infant, Kamijou ran his fingertip beneath either of Misaki's starry eyes.

"Touma… **Please** … Please don't hate me. I **had** to! My prince! I HAD TO! If you'd seen what I'd seen, if you know what I know… My prince… I love you. Touma, I love you so much. I LOVE YOU! I…"

"I don't hate you. I love you, Misaki. It had to be done."

The sharpness of her boyfriend's words surprised her. Was he simply too exhausted to muster his rage? Would it emerge, later, after a period of rest, a period of thinking and calm?

Or, perhaps, they were in complete agreement on this matter, like so many others.

"Misaki… All these times… All I've ever done was just… Prattle. Prattle and… Babble. Stroke my own ego. There… There just can't be a world where everyone smiles. That's… That's a perfect world. And there's no such thing as that… I was stupid. I thought I was some… Some superhero. Like one of our movies. Rush in, deliver some stupid… Stupid… **Stupid** monologue, and just… Try to make myself look good."

He nearly spat.

"I'm terrible. The worst there is. Look at the big, great hero who… Who runs off… Going to play hero, dragging his girlfriend around…? You should really just leave me. You can do a lot better."

"S-Silence. I will never leave you. NEVER. Do you understand… Do you understand that, Kamijou Touma?! No matter what happens, no matter what you do, I will **NEVER LEAVE YOUR SIDE**! I **LOVE** YOU!"

"Misaki… Beautiful girl… I love you too. So, so much. I'm… I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when we're not in Europe anymore. Oh, yeah... You're telling me about this bird of yours later, too..."

It was a surprising turn of events. Even for him, in his Windowless Building. Aleister Crowley couldn't have imagined things happening like _this_. Then again, the fact that Kamijou Touma was capable of being with the fifth-ranked level five esper, at all, was an anomaly in and of itself.

The Imagine Breaker's Bearer was _supposed_ to have fallen into the ocean, after 'slaying' the Archangel Gabriel. But he didn't. Shokuhou Misaki and the absurd, cosmic force of nature she wielded had prevented that.

If Aleister had wanted to, he could've thanked her. Thanked her profusely, in fact; the developments which Shokuhou Misaki had brought about within Kamijou Touma benefitted him beyond his wildest dreams. Perhaps this was why he permitted the anomaly to continue beyond its initial manifestation in the previous year's summer.

A power like the Phoenix Force, of course, was simply _not_ meant to be here. Aleister Crowley knew that. Yet, inexplicably, it was; and it had chosen Shokuhou Misaki, the world's most powerful telepath, as its Host.

Shokuhou Misaki would follow Kamijou Touma to the ends of the Earth. And, wherever Aleister Crowley wished for Kamijou Touma to go, Kamijou Touma _would_ go. Shokuhou Misaki was ultimately unimportant to the Worst Magician.

But, the Phoenix Force she held as her own?

THAT was important.

Yet another star-studded development. Would he, the Worst Magician, ever stop winning?


	11. Story 11

It was Kamijou Touma's twenty-fifth birthday.

Kamijou Touma was still trying to figure out what all the buzz was about; he'd arrived home from work, settled into his meal, a delicious stir fry his ever-adoring, unconditionally loving wife had prepared for him –enjoyed it exceedingly thoroughly – and, thus, found himself in his present situation.

Standing just outside of the closed door to the bedroom he shared with his betrothed, freshly-showered, smelling of strawberry-scented shampoo and cleansing soap, the seven-foot, five-inch gentle giant waited with his arms folded across his powerful, defined chest.

" _I only ask you wait a moment, my precious husband. Believe me, you will not regret it~."_

Those words flashed past his higher mind once again, leaving him longing even more to become one with his beloved wife.

By the sounds of it, the little silver-haired nun, Index, and his 'prisoner', the once-Magic God, Othinus, were up to something in Index's bedroom. The two sounded as if they were struggling against one another, as monstrous roars emanated from within the room, along with the overexcited vocalizations of an announcer who covered the action as it happened.

"Foolish nun! You cannot possibly best me! My overpowered character is unbeatable!"

"That just goes to show how little skill you actually have, Othinus! Me and Primate Pounder are going to give it to ya!"

" _Bloody Fist… I really don't get the appeal. Why are the girls so addicted to that game? Maybe I'm too old to get it."_

The exaggerated sound of blood, guts and gore being spilled within the videogame's world emanated, then, from within the room; Index began to whoop in victory, while Othinus squeaked curses aloud.

Hearing Kamijou Misaki humming quietly to herself from within their bedroom, Kamijou Touma's patience wavered not an inch; his mind simply continued to wander. The sound of fabric being ruffled, which could be heard just 'lower' than the repeated, excited proclamations of Index and Othinus temporarily distracted Touma, but ultimately, his thoughts returned to their seemingly endless wandering.

At least until the bedroom's door opened.

The mere sound of that door slowly, almost cautiously being pulled inwards, towards the married couple's bed was enough to send several jolts of adrenaline rushing throughout Touma; he nearly jumped from the sheer force of it. The intensity left him shuddering, partly with anticipation, partly out of sheer, animalistic desire to mate once more with his beloved wife.

"Thank you for waiting so patiently, my prince~! You may enter now. Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I had to ensure all I have prepared for you is _just_ right…"

Practically storming in, so eager to begin was he, Kamijou Touma found himself caught utterly off-guard; were he a character in a Western cartoon, his jaw would have dropped all the way to the bedroom's floor, slammed against that very same floor, then retracted, resettling itself into place as if nothing at all had occurred.

Seated upon the edge of she and her husband's bed, Kamijou Misaki had garbed herself in a long, flowing, lavender-coloured gown; like that which might have been worn by a Queen. Trimmed with white, lacey trim, each individual fiber of the material having been worked into an individualized, ornate pattern onto itself, Misaki wore upon her delicate feet a pair of tall, high-heeled shoes which matched her flowing gown in colouration. Atop her head rested a golden-coloured crown; it wasn't a particularly cheap-looking thing, either. It glimmered and gleamed beneath the artificial golden-white light of the married couple's bedroom. The headband to which it was connected had been masked by Misaki's long, straightened honey-blonde locks.

In one hand, Kamijou Misaki held an odd-looking thing; odd-looking to Kamijou Touma, certainly. Jewel-encrusted, crafted from leather and with a thick, fluffy lining of faux-fur coating its interior, the collar had dangling from it a lengthy, glimmering chain lead, the ending of which was clasped tightly in Misaki's other, free hand.

Kamijou Touma stared on, unable to speak. His eyes' lids widened. His pupils dilated, and, perhaps most tellingly, a tall, protruding bulge formed within his plaid, lower body's nightwear.

Crossing one long, elegant, muscled leg over the other's plump, milky thigh, Kamijou Misaki tilted her head innocently to one side, and winked at her husband. Their eyes' respective gazes met.

"You do not quite know what to say, do you, husband~? I have planned your little 'birthday bash' very carefully… I have considered many things, and I have done much contemplating on what will bring you the most possible pleasure. Please, do treasure this~."

He peered down at the wedding band which, as always, was set upon his left hand, then, he returned his gaze to his stunningly gorgeous wife.

"I… Misaki… Beautiful… What did I do to deserve all this? I have… I have the best wife **EVER**!"

Kamijou Misaki blushed beneath her husband's gaze; he threw his arms into the air, as if in praise, then promptly fell onto both his knees, arms remaining outwards. He might as well have been offering himself up as tribute to an all-powerful goddess.

"And I have the pinnacle of all husbands; the greatest there could ever be. My husband. My prince. My Touma… Happy birthday, my most beloved, adored one. Come to me~."

Placing her newest toy down upon she and her husband's conjugal bed, Kamijou Misaki opened her arms, cheeks alight with a crimson blush, and smiled her beautiful, breathtaking smile at Kamijou Touma.

Rising, Touma nearly threw himself into his wife's waiting arms. So physically capable was Misaki that she was more than able to withstand the near-full force tackle. Embracing her husband's muscled, warm, loving form tightly, she kissed his neck, repeatedly, adoringly.

"I love you so, so much, Misaki," Touma babbled between the kisses he placed to his wife's own neck.

"And I love you! Every time I look upon you, or merely hear your voice, my soul soars for you, and you alone! You will never be able to truly fathom just how much I _love_ you, Kamijou Touma."

The married couple allowed themselves to fall backwards, onto their waiting conjugal bed; wrapped in one another's arms, Kamijou Touma found himself holding his wife close, and tightly. Ensuring that his embrace couldn't possibly harm her, yet also remain firm, Touma searched out, then easily found that happy medium.

"I appreciate everything you do _so_ much, Misaki… Everything. You're really just the best there is. Can't say much else. Guess I _could_ just repeat myself a bunch of times."

"Speak your mind with me, beloved husband, whatever you might wish to say. I will always be here to listen."

Following her statement, Kamijou Misaki's expression turned to a sly, sinister one. Even as her cheeks erupted further into a bright, crimson blush, Misaki reached over to her newest toy, and, taking it into her hand – while the other remained wrapped tightly around Touma's broad, muscled shoulders – she shook the device in her hand.

"So, husband? Are you prepared, and more importantly, comfortable with your birthday present~? Hm~? Remember, my prince, there are no 'wrongs' in our love. Speak freely."

Her smile deepened; her golden-coloured, starry eyes glistened beneath the bedroom's artificial light.

Providing Misaki with a kiss to either of her cheeks, then, a 'final' passionate kiss to her lips, Kamijou Touma slipped himself free of her embrace, and positioned himself upon the floor. Looking up to her, he was certainly quite the sight; an enormous, musclebound man such as himself upon his knees, looking up at his wife.

With the sort of gentleness she might've exercised while handling her own child, Kamijou Misaki affectionately and cautiously bound her husband's neck in her new toy, only after gently stripping him nude; ensuring that there were several inches between the collar itself and Touma's laryngeal prominence, Misaki knelt downward, and placed either of her bare hands upon her husband's cheeks.

"Does anything hurt, Touma? Is that too tight? Please, communicate with me at all times. Okay? If you feel so much as a single pinch, please tell me. Perhaps a safeword will be necessary."

Touma shook his head, no.

"All's well, beautiful… As for a safeword… How about… Huh. How about "SUCH MISFORTUNE?!"

Despite herself, Kamijou Misaki descended into a girlish giggling fit. Resting her hand's fingers to her lips, Misaki's eyelids slid shut as her mirthful giggling, infectious as it was, infected Kamijou Touma; the two embraced, and lovingly laughed together.

"That will most certainly tell me all that I may need to know. Very well, let us begin, then. Positions… You lowly commoner."

Instantly, Touma was entirely immersed. Bowing before Misaki as she took the long, winding chain linked to his collar into her hand and pulled it towards her with a yank, the spikey-haired young man kept his eyes to the floor.

The mighty, physical powerhouse that he was, reduced to a grovelling commoner, and, above all else, a servant. A servant to his Queen. The very thought sent a chill rushing throughout Touma's entire body; it rushed upwards and downwards upon his spine. His throbbing manhood surged, pulsating of its own accord.

"Could you start by massaging my shoulders, you lowly commoner~?"

"Of course, my Queen."

Tugging her husband forward with a yank on his collar's chain, Kamijou Misaki quietly led Kamijou Touma upwards, back onto the bed. Rolling her shoulders, the young woman was brought to a pinnacle – resulting in a soft, delicate moan – as her husband's muscled hands gripped her shoulders and worked them, gently, but firmly.

"Ah, such a good little servant I have~. This feels so very good."

"I…"

There it was again; that surging in his manhood. That violent pulsating. Every time his wife spoke to him like this during their silly little roleplaying sessions, it brought Kamijou Touma to the edge of pleasure. From where this kink and all of its specific sub-kinks had derived, Touma couldn't have been certain. Some wires, somewhere, must have become interwound with one another within his mind, creating these fetishes of his.

And he couldn't have possibly been happier, indulging them with his beloved, caring, ever-adoring wife.

"I… I l-live to serve you, m-my Queen…"

"Ohoho~."

There it was; the 'ojou-sama laugh'. If Misaki's mere words had been enough to drag him, kicking and screaming to pleasure's doorstep, that little laugh was all it took to throw him within pleasure's proverbial home, beyond the doorway, into pleasure's very realm.

For a long, mutually pleasurable entire half-hour, Kamijou Touma massaged his wife's shoulders. She settled lovingly into her husband's unconditionally-loving touch, though it broke the 'immersion', perhaps just a tad.

Breaking the comfortable silence between them, Touma spoke.

"I-Is there anything more I can do for you, my Queen?"

"Of course, commoner. You exist to serve me. Did you so easily forget your own proclamation~? Hm~?"

"Never, my Queen! Ask, and you'll receive. I exist to serve you, my Queen…"

"Of course I will receive. Now, on your knees."

Giving his leash another yank, Kamijou Misaki pulled her husband with gentle, yet forceful tugs. He followed, obediently, his own cheeks having erupted into a bright, crimson blush. In order to ensure that her part of this two-person 'game' was kept as it needed to be, Misaki made great efforts to avoid looking directly at her husband's manhood; the mere sight of it was often more than enough to send her into a state of sudden heat.

Misaki extended one leg; her gown rose with it, riding along her thick, milky thigh as she moved about. Her expression was one of smug, abject superiority. That grin spoke a thousand words Misaki hardly needed to speak herself.

"Kiss."

"M-My Queen…"

"That was an order, you lowly commoner. Kiss it, immediately."

A part of him still shied away from _this._ It was as if this aspect of his sexuality was somehow forbidden; some taboo subject that ought to have been left untouched, the proverbial stone under which it laid left unturned.

" _Come on, Kamijou-san! Don't deny yourself this! After all the shit we've been through, we_ _ **deserve**_ _this!"_

Kamijou Touma's lips found themselves pressed against the top; his wife's entire body shuddered at the touch. They were so soft, so warm… Another kiss was planted, there.

"Hah… Eh hahaha… T-Touma… S-Slow down, my prince. Y-You'll tickle me…"

Though the illusion was temporarily broken, her husband hardly seemed to mind; he'd settled quite nicely into his gentle, affectionate kissing.

"Sorry, Misaki," he muttered between deep, passionate kisses. "Withdrawal."

"They are yours whenever you would like to have your way with them, husband," she remarked casually, rolling her relaxed, thoroughly-massaged shoulders. "Your wife knows all about your little fetishes… So, please, do not feel ashamed. Yours are perhaps some among the most common among men. Even if they were not, I would _always_ help indulge them, regardless. I love you, Touma, my prince, my light and love… I love you more deeply than I can fit into words."

"I love you too, Misaki… So, so much…"

There was a sudden yank on his collar's chain; Touma started, slightly.

"I have another foot, servant. Do you intend to kiss only one?"

"N-No, my Queen! Never!"

"Then do so immediately."

And Kamijou Touma _did_ ; he spent not another moment dallying, and tended to the next, which was offered to him as Kamijou Misaki's opposite leg rose.

"Ah… Such a _good_ little commoner servant you are. I am hereby giving you permission to wait on me for the rest of your life~."

"T-There's no greater pleasure, my Queen…"

Touma's kissing continued for some time, until his wife yanked his chain forward; pulling him upward with her considerable physical strength, Misaki stared directly into her husband's eyes. Her efforts to prevent the veil from falling failed. She had seen it, in all its enormous, throbbing glory; her husband's manhood. Her haughty, demeaning expression faded; a loving, adoring one replaced it. Misaki's starry eyes gleamed as they looked into Touma's own darkened orbs, with their dilated pupils.

He was absolutely _excited._ Kamijou Misaki had her husband in the deepest throes of pleasure.

"Once again, my prince, happy birthday. I hope you are enjoying your celebration, thus far."

"Y-You have no idea, beautiful… Misaki… I'm enjoying this _so_ much… _SO_ much."

"Kiss me."

"Shouldn't I use mouthwash or something, first…?"

"Silly husband… I care not. Come, kiss me."

Their lips met; as a result, their tongues invaded one another's respective mouth, charging inwards like a mighty cavalry. The two tongues fought against one another like rumbling kaiju; they twisted upon one another, rolling and slipping as the married couple kissed, passionately; Kamijou Touma's arms were soon around Kamijou Misaki's back, and, before long, the latter had fallen back against their conjugal bed, with her husband atop her.

"Would you like me to remove your collar, Touma? But, oh~… It is a look that does suit you, my little servant. My little commoner."

"Leave it on," Touma whispered, lowering himself so that his lips were pressed to his wife's ear. "I just want to serve my Queen."

"Ahaha. Eh hahaha… My prince."

Their eyes' respective gazes locked once more. The two glimpsed into one another's souls, burning with passion for each other, and each other alone.

"Take me, husband. Take me! **Take me**! I need you, now!"

As their gaming session came to its close, Kamijou Index and the tiny former Magic God, Othinus looked to one another; as clear as day, they heard the repeated, telltale noises that marked this occasion, the 'Mating Ritual of Kami-yan'. The rising and falling of metallic bedsprings being pushed downwards with considerable force, then returning, upward.

"Copulating brood animals," Othinus remarked, shaking her little head and quietly chuckling, under her breath.

Kamijou Index stifled her own laughter as she proclaimed aloud, "birthday sex! BIRTHDAY SEX!"


	12. Story 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another seasonal story, here! Christmas might not quite be up there for me like Halloween, but I feel like the occasion still presents something in the way of material for me to work with.

December 24th, 2008.

The dorm, though cramped, had a coat of seasonal decorations applied to it. Home to four people – a home _within_ a home, in the case of the tiny, former Magic God Othinus – this dorm, which was not meant to have an occupancy beyond a single resident, was home. Home for a certain loving couple, Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki. The Christmas tree, a cheap artificial thing that had been purchased from the Dianoid, had been adorned in twisting, light-covered wires, little glass bulbs, and nothing at all on top.

A star? _The Star of Bethlehem_? Not likely. Both Touma and Misaki had come to that agreement together. The top of the tree stay bare. Even if the message was one which held significance only to this couple.

A wide assortment of miscellaneous ornaments, knickknacks and small trinkets, here and there, spruced the dorm up for the season.

Things, altogether, should have been festive and joyous.

And yet, Kamijou Touma seemed distant to her. Shokuhou Misaki observed him, quietly, from across the room. The little nun whose mind contained one hundred and three thousand accursed tomes – Grimoires – had read the room, and quietly observed her guardian as well.

Most of the time, his vision remained focused on the glass doors which lead out onto the dorm’s balcony. Occasionally, when the shuffling footfalls of those who walked beyond the dorm’s entranceway door could be heard, Touma’s neck would swiftly twist in a manner which surely hurt him, on some level, and his head darted in the sounds’ direction.

The Mental Out girl had ceased her meticulous decorating and kept a close eye on her boyfriend. Her golden, starry eyes blinked repeatedly.

_“Why now…? Why Christmas Eve? Can my beloved prince not be set free from his troubles for even this holiday season…?”_

Carefully, her motions deliberate and almost exaggerated, as not to ‘sneak up’ on or otherwise startle the mentally battered young man she loved with all of her heart and beyond, Shokuhou Misaki closed what distance there was between herself and her boyfriend, while Index watched on. Othinus must have been preoccupied with decorating her own ornate abode, her personal dollhouse.

“Touma?”

Placing herself in full view of him, outright obstructing his vision, Misaki tilted her head gently to one side, and managed a small, but genuine smile. Garbed in a tight-fitting, long-sleeved red shirt and soft, white-coloured leggings, with her long, flowing, honey-blonde hair, the sheer, breathtaking beauty of his very own ‘Golden Girl’ took Touma by surprise. Starting, he chuckled, more to himself than to his girlfriend.

“H-Hey, beautiful girl. Guess I spaced out. Everything’s cool?”

“No. Evidently, everything is not ‘cool’. Something troubles you. What? I would much rather sacrifice the rest of this Christmas Eve aiding you in working through whatever it is that occupies your mind than go about my business, ignorantly, leaving you to suffer in silence. I love you, my prince. Communicate with me.”

She approached, carefully, gently wrapping her muscled arms around her boyfriend’s broad, mighty shoulders. Her recently-upgraded workout regime showed what progress had been made; Touma could _feel_ the honey-blonde girl’s powerful musculature pushing into him.

He sighed.

He really was the worst.

“It’s just this feeling,” he began awkwardly. Guided to the ancient, worn-out bed which the couple shared together, Shokuhou Misaki sat herself down elegantly with her beloved. Arms still wrapped around his shoulders, the Mental Out girl drew herself in closer, and gently, lovingly stroked his cheek with her fingers’ delicate tips. “I… I just can’t help but feel like something terrible is going to happen tonight. You ever get that _feeling_? Something like this sixth sense.”

He realized it almost immediately; the expression his girlfriend provided him with was one of complete and utter pity. Shokuhou Misaki appeared as if she was staring upon, perhaps, _the_ most pitiable sight she’d ever witnessed.

The Mental Out girl kissed her boyfriend on his lips. Once, twice, three times…

“Touma…”

She seemed as if she struggled to find the words. Ever-patient, as always, he waited for her.

“Nothing… Nothing will come between us. Not on this night. Not on any night, nor any day. Do you recall the proclamation I exclaimed in Eastern Europe those four years ago?”

Quietly, and to himself, Kamijou Touma did recall that proclamation. And he quietly recalled the incinerated, smouldering pile of ash that once been the Leader of the Rosicrucians, Anna Sprengel; ash had been all that was left of Sprengel, after whatever absurd power his girlfriend wielded as her own, her ‘Phoenix Force’ utterly _destroyed_ her.

“How could I forget something exciting like that?” His vocalizations were dry. Kamijou Touma sounded as if he had only just eaten several entire sheets of sandpaper for Christmas Eve supper. “Logic doesn’t apply here, like that, though… It just doesn’t. I wish I wasn’t such a worthless boyfriend. I wish…”

A single, delicate finger was swiftly placed to his lips. His girlfriend shook her head; locks of honey-blonde hair fluttered about as she did so.

“Enough. You are _not_ worthless. You are my most beloved, the one who holds my heart and my soul. The one who I intend to spend the rest of my life with. When you suffer, I suffer. I feel your pain as my own. In that way, we are connected, always, Touma.”

She smiled, weakly.

“So, do not do this to yourself. I will _always_ protect you, no matter the cost. As I will _always_ protect Index, and even that… Runt you are so fond of keeping. Just as you _always_ protect _me_.”

Then, as that broken, battered boy’s entire body began to shudder, Misaki acted as quickly as she could; taking Touma into her arms, into a tight, comforting embrace, she stroked the back of his head, kissed the top of it, and cooed.

“M-Misaki… I-I’m s-sorry… I-I’m sorry for being like this, all the time… I’m…”

“Shh. There, there… Let it all out. There, my prince… There… I love you. I love you _so very much_. And I always will. You are no burden to me. For as long as I must support you through these challenges we face, I will. Not because I must; because I _desire_ to. Wholly and unconditionally. **None** of this is **your fault**. So, please, _please_ do not blame yourself!”

As things seemed to fall apart, Shokuhou Misaki found herself aided by the little silver-haired nun, Index Librorum Prohibitorum. She’d come running along, dodging half-unpacked boxes of Christmas decorations when her deeply-wounded guardian had lost control of his emotions, and bottled them up no longer. Taking to his side, the little nun gently took her guardian’s right hand into her own, and held it tightly.

As a young daughter might have comforted her pained father, the little nun’s grip tightened.

“It’s o-okay, Touma! I… I won’t let anything happen, either! Don’t count me out!”

That wretch, Othinus, had neglected to show herself; good, Misaki thought to herself. Whatever business that cretin and her beloved, precious prince had was between them. She would abide the pint-sized former Magic God’s presence, but little more.

_“You are part of the reason my boyfriend suffers as he does. There will never be any kinship between us, you accursed, vile thing. My hatred for you knows no bounds.”_

As if spurred by her contemplations, Misaki took Touma’s cheeks into her hands, and brought him up, to look directly into her eyes; his were bloodshot. His cheeks themselves bad become wet, stained by the presence of released, liquid agony.

He was about to say something; his lips quivered, but not due to another round of wracking sobs – horrifyingly pitiful vocalizations, as far as he was concerned – but Touma never got the chance.

There were several knocks at the entranceway door. Quick, in rapid succession, one followed the other like a Pied Piper leading rats away from some European settlement.

Shokuhou Misaki’s embrace tightened, as the psychologically-damaged boy in her arms started, and made visible his pitiable desperation; his arms were around his ever-doting, always-adoring girlfriend’s waist in a moment’s time. Like a sad child clinging to his mother, his _one source_ of stability, protection, and unconditional love.

Her golden, starry eyes were alight with orange flame.

“I am Fire and Life incarnate.”

Her embrace tightened, further. The flaming, V-shaped, winged emblem that burst forth from her bosom did not harm Kamijou Touma in the slightest, even as its massive, licking flames seemed to make great effort to devour the very atmosphere around her.

“Now and forever…”

More knocking.

“ **I am Phoenix**.”

Kamijou Touma looked upon Shokuhou Misaki; though she was more powerful than he could _possibly_ even begin to understand – his unquantifiable, power-negating Imagine Breaker had no effect upon her apparent transformation whatsoever – he was able to look past that absurd, cosmic power. Touma could still _see_ his ‘Golden Girl’.

“Saviours? I am present, I explain, attempting to inform the Saviours of my presence without seemingly overtly rude; the Saviours’ lack of response to my knocking has proven that I must engage in greater attention-gathering tactics, I remark, explaining myself as best I can.”

The vocalizations originating from beyond the dorm’s metallic, entranceway door sounded akin to those of the Railgun girl, Misaka Mikoto; but they were devoid of much emotion. The vocalizations were monotone, as if spoken by someone who hadn’t gotten a wink of shuteye in weeks.

“H-Haruhi…?”

Kamijou had been the first one to consider it; the ten thousand and thirty-second clone of Misaka Mikoto, she who he had years ago christened ‘Misaka Imouto’ had taken an identity for herself. Her own, uniquely identifying name.

As quickly as they had come, the flames of Shokuhou Misaki’s Phoenix Force faded.

“Will you be alright if I answer the door, Touma? I love you. I love you so deeply. I will be **right** back.”

“Y-Yeah. Geez, this is really pathetic. Such misfortune…”

“Hush,” Index spoke aloud, gently messaging her guardian’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Misaki. I’ll make sure Touma’s OK.”

Her exposed head, without the headpiece of her habit, quickly found itself being gently, lovingly patted. Misaki peered down at the nun, like a loving mother might have peered down at her own daughter.

“Thank you, Index.”

As Misaki departed – not straying all that far, given her destination was less than some ten feet away from she and her boyfriend’s bed – Touma shuddered, instinctively reeling from the temporary physical loss. As if to fill the ‘void’, as it were, Index stared into her guardian’s eyes, and stuck her tongue out at him.

Quietly, Kamijou chuckled.

“Tou-ma. Everything will be okay. Okay? I promise! And I always keep my promises! Unless it’s promising not to clear the whole fridge out…”

While Index kept her word, Misaki cautiously opened the entranceway door; there was always chance. There was _always_ a _chance_ that some nefarious being – perhaps, ironically enough, some mind-reader – was taking advantage of she and her boyfriend’s good will and welcoming nature. The Mental Out girl needed to be prepared for such a possibility; she kept the idea alive, floating throughout her higher mind, even as she pulled the door inwards, towards her.

No mind-reading magician. No deranged esper.

Just a girl who looked almost identical to Misaka Mikoto, Shokuhou Misaki’s once-rival.

The protruding hood of a sweater protruded from beneath a thick parka. Despite the relatively chilly weather, one among many thousands of clones wore little more than a pink-coloured skirt and knee-high, fashionable boots, as opposed to something that might’ve provided a bit more warmth.

“Thank you, I exclaim, making clear my truthful and honest appreciation. Christmas parties have rendered me socially irrelevant, as I do not particularly enjoy social interaction in large numbers, I elaborate, explaining myself. Accelerator, the Control Tower and the Malicious One are not home. Onee-sama is presently difficult to reach, due to her university’s dormitory’s policy of preventing trespassing. I would humbly request to spend Christmas Eve with you, the Saviours, I confess with some embarrassment.”

“Haruhi! You need not explain yourself so thoroughly. Of course, you are always welcome in our home! Come, dear, come in, make yourself right at home. I will prepare you a warm cup of… Hot chocolate? Tea? What are your preferences?”

Welcoming the empty-eyed clone in, Misaki smiled warmly at her boyfriend; in Index’s care, he seemed to be making a quick recovery from his momentary emotional lapse. He rose, with the little nun’s help, and approached. His arm was taken into his girlfriend’s own, then. Her embrace tightened. Supportively, ever-adoring, she kissed his cheek.

“All is well, Touma, my beloved prince,” she whispered, softly. “All is well. Rest calm.”

“The First Saviour appears to be in a state of emotional duress, I extrapolate by examining telltales signs of a recent breakdown.” Her hand fell to Touma’s shoulder. Haruhi blinked several times. “The Second Saviour and the Bookkeeper seem to have aided you, I state, performing my diagnostic tests.”

“Long story,” Touma spoke dismissively. “It’s really good to see you, Haruhi. Like Misaki said, just come right on in. If you don’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with, then, that’s what we’re here for.”

“Yep!” Index announced, leaping onto her guardian’s back, and throwing her arms around his shoulders as she giggled aloud. “Let’s get some Christmas cheer going!”

The Christmas Eve could only get better. The heaviness in Kamijou Touma’s heart lifted; even more so when his girlfriend kissed his lips, and smiled her wide, brilliant, adoring smile at him.

As long as they were together, there was nothing that could stand in their way. No force could halt them. Shokuhou Misaki and Kamijou Touma; the ‘dream team’.


End file.
